The Undertaker's Apprentice
by kotobaka
Summary: You can learn a lot from corpses, and they never cease to amaze me. I have never felt so fascinated by something other than the dead. That is, I had never seen something more fascinating until that boy showed up. AU now with epilogue!
1. Prologue

**Here we are, my first published story! I have most of this one already done, just working on finishing it up, so no requests for plotpoints, sorry :( Anyway, enjoy this! The story is AU, set in Victorian England in 1889. There's not much magic aside from the shinigamis, the contract doesn't exist and as for what everyone's role in the story is... you'll just have to keep reading to find out :D**

**For any Victorian slang used in the story, you can use this nifty little dictionary i found: www (dot) tlucretius (dot) net / Sophie / Castle / victorian_slang (dot) html**

**A warning to people who don't like BL or shounen-ai: there is BL. Read at your own risk. But please don't flame me for it if you read it and are offended later; it was YOUR decision to read it.**

**Further warnings (For the entire story, not just the prologue): minor gore, lots of *Victorian-era* swearing :D, BL, OOC Ciel (only at first!), innuendo and the like. Prepare yourself.**

**This is just the prologue - the first chapter will be out on Friday, October 9. Read on and enjoy!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Dead bodies don't take care of themselves. They can't do anything for themselves; they're helpless. The poor decaying bodies, who will take care of them? They have nowhere to go besides six feet under, but how will they get there?

Everyone has a use for himself in this world. Some people spend money on lavish parties and bask in riches, others do the dirty work. I am the latter, though I do not care to call my work "dirty". I make the dead beautiful, give them life again before they are sealed into their new wooden homes. It is rewarding work, and interesting to boot. I find nothing to be more intriguing than having a body sent in and discovering how they died and the secrets of their life they might not have even known themselves.

You can read a person's entire life from their corpse, did you know that? I can tell if they were rich and mugged in an alley by an underpaid harlot, or a humble wife who died in childbirth. They all come to me and tell me their stories. And I listen to them, hearing their last words before they are sealed away completely.

The dead tell the most interesting tales. I've rarely been disappointed in a corpse—unless, of course, the cause of death is a boring old heart attack or other organ failure. You can learn a lot from corpses, and they never cease to amaze me. I have never felt so fascinated by something other than the dead.

That is, I had never seen something more fascinating until that boy showed up.

* * *

It was evening in smoggy London. The rain was drizzling down outside and streaming down the darkened windows of the rickety shop. A haphazard sign was propped up above the door reading "UNDERTAKER" in large, spindly lettering. The street was quiet, save for a few rats and stray dogs. An emaciated mutt sniffed around the street, looking for some food. It timidly followed its nose past the door to the shop, but quickly leaped back and scampered off as a sudden _CRASH_ echoed through the door.

"Clumsy boy! Watch where you're going!" a tall, grey haired man rushed out of the back room of the shop as soon as he heard the noise. His top hat was ripped and worn so badly strips of cloth were hanging down by his long hair and bangs that hid his eyes. The rest of his attire was not faring much better.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, sir!" the young boy apologized, falling to his knees and trying to scrape up the shards of broken glass that had been a jar just moments ago. "I-I was gettin' the a-arsenic like ya t-told me ta a-an'—"

"And you broke it!" the Undertaker reprimanded, "Now I have to go though all the trouble of getting more. Do you have any idea how much arsenic costs?!"

The boy grabbed at the glass in a panic, ignoring the sting in his knees as the shards still on the floor bit into them. "I-it won' happen again, sir!"

"I'm sure it won't," the Undertaker said, walking up to stand behind him, "Still, arsenic is very expensive."

"I'm s-sorry, I—"

The Undertaker lifted the boy up onto his feet, turning him so that he was facing him. "Maybe you can pay me back right now."

The boy shook his head, staring at his ruddy shoes. "I don' have any money, sir."

The Undertaker lifted the boy's chin so that he was gazing right into those beautiful blue lamps he had. "I'm sure we can figure something out," he grinned, bending down to eye level with the boy and leaning into him.

The boy tore his gaze away and stepped back, wrapping his arms around himself. "No please, sir! I'll do anythin' but that!"

The Undertaker chuckled and stood up straight again. "I'm joking," he said, running a finger from the boy's eye down his cheek and tracing the jaw line, "There're much prettier girls than you I can find in the brothel down the street."

The boy shut his eyes tight and appeared to shrink back even more. The Undertaker chuckled again and kissed him on the forehead before returning to the back room. "Get back to work, Ciel."

"Yes, sir."


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello one and all! Kotobaka is back to present the first chapter of The Undertaker's Apprentice! Hope you all like it and it's worth the read :)**

**I realized that last time the link i gave you all about the Victorian slang dictionary didn't make it into the prologue. Sorry about that! Here it is now: www (dot) tlucretius (dot) net (slash) Sophie (slash) Castle (slash) victorian (underscore) slang (dot) html . I hope it works for you! If it doesn't and you have a question about the slang, PM me and I'll send you the link.**

**Warnings (For the entire story): minor gore, lots of *Victorian-era* swearing :D, BL, OOC Ciel (only at first!), innuendo and the like. Prepare yourself.**

**Alrighty, enough rambling on my part. Read on!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

The shop always gave Ciel the creeps when he first came downstairs in the mornings. The dull early morning light gave the empty coffins along the wall an eerie appearance, and various organs and other horrible items floated in jars of formaldehyde as if to taunt him of his fear of them. The boy shivered, both from cold and from fright. He began to descend the rickety steps to the shop. The Undertaker was never up this early; he preferred to stay up until the rest of London went to sleep, all the while marveling over and examining the latest "customers".

Ciel reached the bottom of the stairs and began his day. He cleaned up the rest of the spots of arsenic he had spilled the previous night and shelved whatever jars or powder boxes the Undertaker had used after he had gone to sleep. When that was done he moved into the front room, wiping off the tables and dusting off coffins. He was almost finished with his work when he noticed what had been wrong with this picture ever since he first stepped into the room.

One of the coffins was closed. Ciel looked around the room nervously, not sure what he was looking for but afraid nonetheless. He looked back at the coffin, not sure what to do. There had been a few customers yesterday, but the Undertaker had treated them all and taken them out back to be carted off to the cemetery today. Had someone made a late-night delivery?

Ciel set down his rag and crept up to the coffin. Tentatively, he reached up a shaking hand and knocked on the lid. The echo that resounded from inside told him that it was, indeed, occupied. Summoning up all his courage, he placed both his hands on the lid of the coffin and began to push it off.

Suddenly, the lid burst off the coffin, clattering to the side and causing Ciel to jump back with a bloodcurdling scream. A tall figure completely clad in red stepped out of the coffin, stretching and looking around. He turned around, giving Ciel a clear look at his face.

The man had long, blood red hair that cascaded all the way down his back. He wore glasses, which were attached to a long beaded cord. He was dressed in the garb of a middle class man, with a long bright red coat tossed on over it.

"G-Grell?!" Ciel spluttered, recognizing the man, "Wh-what're you doin' here so early?! An' why the bloody 'ell where you sleepin' in a coffin?!"

"Death gods don't get spooked by death like you humans. I need my beauty sleep!" Grell grinned and ran over to Ciel, sweeping him up into a tight hug. "How's my little Ci-Ci doing?!" he squealed, spinning Ciel around.

"Ow! Ow! You're hurtin' me, Grell!"

"Oh sorry, sorry." Grell set Ciel down and grinned his big, toothy smile again. It creeped Ciel out a little. The boy picked up his rag again and walked around the room, trying to look busy so Grell would not notice how badly he had spooked him. "Soo where's the adorable Undertaker?" Grell asked sweetly.

Ciel wordlessly lifted his arm and pointed up toward the upper floor where he and the Undertaker lived. Grell followed his finger until he saw where the boy was pointing. "I'm co—oming, my favorite little death god!" he sang, skipping up the stairs and disappearing around the landing. Ciel continued to clean and put the coffin back where it belonged. Soon enough, there came a shout that sounded like Grell saying "Get up, my handsome Undertaker!", followed by a few thuds as the Undertaker got up out of bed. A few minutes later saw him trudging down the stairs with Grell bouncing along behind him.

"What are you here so early for, Grell?" the Undertaker said once they had reached the ground floor, "You don't usually come until the afternoon."

Grell's skipping abruptly stopped. "There's been a tragic death," he said solemnly.

The Undertaker laughed. "What do you think I do for a living? Of course there's been a death! What makes this so special?"

Grell squirmed where he stood. "It's… weird. And horrible. You'll have to come and see." The red haired death god led the Undertaker outside. Ciel followed close behind to help move the body inside.

Grell led them around the side of the shop to where a burlap body bag lay on the damp ground. "Ciel," the Undertaker commanded.

"Yessir." Ciel picked it up by what seemed to be the feet and pulled. To his surprise, he was able to move it quite easily. Was it a child? The Undertaker picked the bag up by the opposite end and the two carried it inside the shop and laid it on the table. Ciel stood back as the Undertaker stepped forward and opened the bag, unveiling the corpse's face.

It was a beautiful young girl who looked to be Ciel's age of eleven. Soft blond curls fell about her face, held up in two pigtails by pink ribbons. She was wearing expensive clothes, showing that she was most likely one of the nobility. Ciel had seen his share of dead nobles, but this particular one made him stagger back in surprise. "H-her _face_ is—"

The girl's face was scrunched up into a horrible scream, every muscle contracted. In fact, all the muscles in her body were tight, causing her to be in something of a fetal position. The ugly, frozen scream on her beautiful face almost made Ciel gag.

"I just found her really early this morning," Grell explained, "I was walking around and I saw her lying there in an alley."

"Hmm… from the look of it, it looks like she just recently died," the Undertaker said, looking over the corpse. He wasn't fazed by this horrific scene; in fact, he seemed absolutely fascinated, as always. Ciel took a deep breath and approached the body once again, determined to do his job correctly.

"I wonder who this girl was…?" Grell mused, "she's awfully pretty, and she looks like she was pretty well off."

Ciel examined the body, looking for any sign of identification for the girl. He finally found a small gold necklace around her neck, glowing faintly through her collar. He unfastened the pin keeping her high collar together and removed the necklace. It was a tiny pentacle, with the words "To my dear Elizabeth" engraved on the back.

The Undertaker gasped when he laid eyes on the pentacle. "That thing didn't get stolen?! That's a miracle!"

"It was 'idden in 'er collar," Ciel explained, "I think 'er name's Elizabeth."

"Wait… that rings a bell," the Undertaker said, "there was something in the paper announcing the disappearance of a girl named Elizabeth Middleton three days ago, right?"

Grell smirked and shrugged. "I wouldn't know. You're more attached to the human world than I am."

The Undertaker did not say anything back to Grell and continued to think. "If this is Miss Middleton, then this could be pretty big news. She's pretty high up there in the nobility, isn't she?"

"You're the one who can read," Ciel said.

The Undertaker chuckled. "I thought I taught you well enough," he said, stroking the boy's soft black hair.

Ciel did not jump away. "If that girl's a noble, an' we found 'er dead on the street, people 're gonna think we killed 'er!"

Grell nodded. "They'll have plenty of evidence. We're the first to find her, you know about treating corpses, and we're not rich."

"We'll have to bury her in secret," the Undertaker said, all fascination in his voice replaced by purposeful planning, "I'll have her coffin ready tomorrow."

The Undertaker swept into the back room where he did his work. Grell made himself comfortable on top of an expensive-looking casket and watched as Ciel looked at the corpse. "You ever had a close-up with a dead person, Ci-Ci?" he asked.

Ciel turned away from the girl and looked at the death god. "Course I 'ave," he said, "I lived in the bloody rookery afore I came 'ere! Bet you don' know what a live 'eart looks like."

"You mean a beating heart?" Grell corrected. Ciel rolled his eyes. Grell smirked. "Yeah, I do. I'm a death god—it's my job to know these things."

Ciel cast a sideways glance at the girl's dead body. "…it looks like… an apple. A really mushy, fleshy apple."

Grell nodded. "Something like that." Ciel busied himself with examining Elizabeth's corpse again. Grell looked over his shoulder at what he was doing. The boy was checking vital areas, poking it in various places. "What are you doing?"

"Tryin' ta figure out 'ow she died," Ciel responded without looking up.

"You can tell?"

"I said I'm _tryin'_."

"You figure out anything?"

The boy was quiet for a few moments, feeling the muscles in the girl's neck and shoulders. "If I 'ad ta make a guess, I'd say it was poison."

"Poison?"

"The body's not bruised or anythin', an' there're no cuts. Only poison'd do the trick."

Grell stared at the child in amazement. He could have figured that out, but an eleven year old human? He'd never believe it if Ciel hadn't said anything. "Undertaker's taught you a lot," he said.

"I know enough," he said simply. Then he frowned. "I can't figure out what poison it is, though."

"That's just what I was thinking," the Undertaker said as he emerged from the back room, "I've heard of this kind of poison somewhere. They called it strychnine. It's not very old—only discovered eighty years ago."

"Tha's a long time," Ciel pointed out.

"Not when you're a death god," Grell explained. He waved his hand at the Undertaker, smiling. "Continue on."

The Undertaker started speaking again. "It's very strong stuff, doesn't take more than five milligrams to kill you. What I don't get is how this girl ingested it without tasting it, or noticing the taste. She'd probably spit it out if she tasted something that bitter."

"What does it do?" Grell asked.

"You go into a series of convulsions and all your muscles tighten," the Undertaker said, obviously enjoying explaining these gruesome details to Grell and Ciel, "They can sometimes go on for hours! You end up dying as your limbs go numb and you suffocate, all the while being conscious."

Grell screwed up his face, disgusted. "Gross!"

"Tell that ta the murd'ra," Ciel said.

The Undertaker traced the dead girl's face. "There was another death like this two weeks ago," he said, "a rich girl was found dead, frozen and looking like she was screaming. Just like now."

Ciel looked up at the Undertaker. "So's you think there's a connection?"

"Probably," the Undertaker said, bending down to look Ciel in the eye. He ran his long fingers through the child's hair. "If they _were_ connected, we could have a serial killer on the loose."

Grell turned up his nose. "Disgusting! Humans like that make me sick—they make killing a sport, not the art it's supposed to be!" He looked over at the Undertaker. "Can we catch him, my beautiful mortician? So I can give him a piece of my mind about how he's disgracing my art!"

The Undertaker giggled excitedly. "This will be fun!"

**That's all for this week! Next chapter will be posted on Friday, October 16.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 is here! Hooray! And on time, too - thought I wasn't going to make it, but I did! ^_^**

***cough* anyway, in this chapter, we have... another cameo! Last time, we "met" Elizabeth - who turned out to already be dead. And it turns out there's a serial killer on the lose. Oh, no! What to do?! The Undertaker seems to have an idea...**

**As always, the link for the slang is as such (this chapter has a lot more slang in it than others, i think, so be ready!): www (dot) tlucretius (dot) net (slash) Sophie (slash) Castle (slash) victorian (underscore) slang (dot) html**

**Warnings: The usual swearing, minor gore, innuendo, Ciel getting hit on by old guys, BL/shounen-ai, the like.**

**And thank you everyone who has reviewed so far! Each one is like a ray of sunshine to brighten my day :D Your feedback and comments make this little fanfic-er so very happy!**

**And so I give to you... CHAPTER 2!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel ran his shovel into the dirt, burying the coffin in its hole. The Undertaker was not paying attention to the child's work, but was instead looking around the graveyard and frowning. "What's wrong, my lovely?" Grell called down from his perch in the old tree the Undertaker and Ciel were standing under, "You look worried."

"I'm trying to make sure no one sees us!" the Undertaker hissed, "They'll figure us out in no time if they do!"

"Ohh, okay!" Grell nodded, grinning, "I don't think I've seen you this worked up about something before, though. It's kind of cute!"

"You'd be worked up too if your livelihood was on the line because of this!"

Ciel continued to work through the background noise. As always, his work would go unnoticed and he'd return to the shop to continue his life as he'd lived it the past two months. Still, the idea of a serial poisoner haunted him. The girl—Elizabeth—had looked so horrible with her face all distorted and her body folded up in such a sickening position. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that image out of his head. Ciel finished shoveling dirt into the hole and patted it down. "Done, sir."

The Undertaker looked around and saw the boy's work. "Good," he said, beginning to walk away from the scene, "Come on, you two."

Grell hopped down from the tree and pranced along behind the Undertaker. Ciel turned to the grave, unsure of what to do for this girl. He looked around and found what he needed: a large stone. Heaving with all his might, he dragged the rock over the grave as a marker. It was the least he could do for this poor girl.

"Ciel! Hurry up!"

"Comin', sir." Ciel felt the shape of the pentacle necklace in his pocket as he turned to leave the grave. He'd kept the necklace, yes, but he was not about to sell it any time soon; he was going to figure this mess out.

After Grell left for the day, the Undertaker and Ciel resumed their normal routine. There had been two customers left in front of the shop while they had been out, and the Undertaker was busy cleaning them up and treating them to be buried. Ciel was dusting powder on the old man's face when the Undertaker handed him three crowns. Ciel took the money, not sure what was going on. "Ya want me ta go shoppin'?"

"Why you think I'm giving you money?!" the Undertaker said, "Take this and go to Angela. I need that arsenic replaced."

"Yes, sir." Ciel put the money in his breast pocket and exited the shop. He hurried down the nearly empty street until he came out on a small square. There were some people, making it fairly crowded. Ciel ducked into the crowd and began to make his way across the square to the street where Angela had her dollyshop.

Ciel accidentally bumped into a tall man. Taking advantage of the moment, the boy slipped his hand into the man's pocket and took out his wallet, quickly disappearing into the crowd. He'd been a flimp before he'd started his job of working for the Undertaker; it'd turned into a habit he was not likely to give up easily. Hawking and hoisting had been some of his other money-making schemes, but pickpocketing had been his favorite and best trade.

Ciel turned down a street leading off the square and ducked into a doorway, where he opened the wallet. Ten pounds and three shillings. Not bad at all. The boy tucked the money into his breast pocket with the money from the Undertaker and set off in search of Angela's shop.

He traveled down the twisting and turning alleyways, each street narrower than the last, until he came out on an almost empty street. The only people Ciel could see was a group of old geezers playing some gambling game and a young woman wandering the street. Ciel walked by the men's gathering, ignoring them.

One of the men, obviously drunk, turned around in his seat when the boy passed by. "'ow much, ladybird?"

"Bugger off, gegor."

"Oh! So's the kid wants ta haggle?" The man got up and took a few steps toward Ciel. The boy kept walking, not turning around to face the men. Angela's pawnshop was nearby; he could get there in time before these men tried anything.

"'ey! We aksed ya ta get o'er 'ere!" another man called, "We'll give ya tol's a cash! 'ow's five pound sound?"

"Sounds like ya could use someone's foot up your arse," Ciel muttered, "it'd keep ya from stickin' yer jewels up others'."

"Wha ya jus' say ta me, boy?!"

Ciel broke into a run, tearing down the street with the men in hot pursuit yelling and screaming horrible curses. The boy dashed past the woman and around a corner, where he stopped to catch his breath. The men did not seem to be following him anymore. He dared a peek around the corner and saw they had been distracted by the woman, who looked to be a ladybird looking for customers. Ciel ducked behind the wall and snuck away fast before the men could remember about their original target.

Angela's shop was an odd place. It was a pawnshop, so it was obviously going to be a little off and eccentric, but Angela's in particular was especially different, Ciel had noticed. She sold everything an eleven-year-old could think of, plus a few things he had never seen before. There were spices and statues all the way from India, some trinkets from the Americas, and even some black market items if you knew how to ask properly. Ciel reached the small shop nestled between a tavern and an apartment house and went inside.

"Ciel! 'ow's my fav'rite vis'tor doin'?" Angela greeted in her thick accent, "why'd ya disappear so long? Ya get nibbed?"

Ciel shook his head. He had not been arrested. "Nope. Still been workin' at that Undertaker's place."

"Oh, 'im? Heard strange things 'bout tat man," Angela said, "is 'e odd?"

Ciel nodded. "Pretty odd. 'e 'as a scar runnin' 'cross 'is face, an' 'is hair 'ides 'is eyes."

The white haired woman leaned back in her creaky chair. "Good ta know yer doin' somethin' right proper, Ciel. Mos' chavys yer age 're workin' fer kidsmen 'r they end up in the brothels. Not a place fer yew, boy." Ciel remained silent, letting the woman finish her brief lecture. When Angela had allowed her words to sink in, she propped up her elbows on the armrests of her chair and folded her hands. "What ya got fer me? 'r what ya wanna buy?"

Ciel looked around the shop. "Undertaker needs arsenic," he said. Then he paused and looked at his shoes in shame. "I dropped his last jar."

"Ah, 'appens to the best o' us," Angela said, getting up from the secondhand armchair and walking around the shop, "I think I 'ave arsenic in 'ere somewhere...."

Ciel waited patiently as the woman looked for what he needed; no one but Angela herself had any idea where things were in this shop or how they were organized. He remembered the necklace in his pocket. "Ah, Angela?"

"Yes?"

Ciel took the pentacle necklace out of his pocket and walked over to the woman, dangling it in front of her. "'ave any ideas what this is?"

Angela took the necklace and ran the chain through her fingers, holding it up to the light of a candle and turning it in a number of angles. "It's real gold," she said, "got yerself quite the prize, Ciel."

"Ya sure?"

Angela stuck the necklace in the boy's face. "Bite it an' see."

Ciel turned his face away. "Why? I'm the one aksen' _you_ ta test it."

"I would ne'er put somethin' so unholy in me mouth."

Ciel rolled his eyes at the woman's devout Christianity. She was probably the most religious person he knew. It was a surprise that she was even touching this pagan necklace to begin with. Ciel took the necklace and bit down hard on it. The pentacle came away with slight dent marks in it. "Aw, now it's bent."

"Ya should know this bet'er than anyun," Angela said, "Gold's soft. Ya can bite it if it's pure enough."

Ciel nodded. "Yess'm. I 'member that."

Angela looked at the necklace in the boy's hand again. "ya goin' ta sell that ta me?"

Ciel pocketed the jewelry, much to Angela's dismay. "Nah. I was goin' ta aks ya 'bout the symbol. Some pagan thing, right?"

"Pentacle," Angela said, mouth forming around the word like it was a bug she had just swallowed, "the symbol fer the pagans."

"What's it mean?"

"Tol's a things," the woman said, shrugging, "first off, it can mean the whole bein'. The body surrounded by the soul keepin' it together. It can be a protection amulet, too."

Ciel listened, trying to see how this fit into the incident with Elizabeth Middleton. He got the feeling that the necklace was a part of the reason Elizabeth had been killed. But then, why had the murderer not stolen it, and instead left it with her corpse after she died? Angela turned around and resumed her search for the arsenic. Finding it, she handed it to him. Ciel paid her the three crowns the Undertaker had given him earlier.

The boy turned and exited the dollyshop, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks, Angela."

"Make sure ta work hard at the Undertaker's!" Angela called after him, "Wouldn' wan' ta see ya end up workin' fer the kidsmen!"

Ciel disregarded the woman's last word of advice to him as the door swung shut behind him. He had always worked independently when he still lived in the rookery; he'd hate to stoop to the level of his peers and end up working for some man who took away most of his earnings at the end of the day. He'd worked hard for what he earned, so why should someone else have the right to take it away?

The boy ran down the street, looking around in search of the drunken men who had been chasing him earlier. Finding no trace of them, Ciel ducked down another alley and made his way back to the Undertaker's shop.

**...because Ciel was made to be hit on by older guys and be creeped on by every character in the series. Next chapter out on October 23, and maybe, _just maybe_, there will be an appearance of a certain red-eyed bishounen... See you all in a week!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey readers guess what day it is?! Yep, it's FRIDAY! And that means another chapter of the Undertaker's Apprentice! Huzzah!**

**So this chapter, the real story finally gets off the ground! I was asked last week about the pairings: it IS SebastianxCiel, with the Undertaker just being creepy and Grell being absolutely in love with him ^_^ so pretty much canon parings.**

**Warnings: BL/shounen-ai, swearing, mild gore, innuendo, and a lime in future chapters (sorry i didn't mention this earlier...).**

**Linky-link! www (dot) tlucretius (dot) net (slash) Sophie (slash) Castle (slash) victorian (underscore) slang (dot) html**

**Hope you all enjoy this latest installment of The Undertaker's Apprentice!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Funerals had become less spooky the longer Ciel worked for the Undertaker. He and the Undertaker knelt in a pew of the small church as the priest recited hymns from the Bible, praying for the deceased's soul to find its way to heaven and peaceful rest. The two of them were positioned towards the back of the church, naturally, considering the status of the deceased's family. They had not wanted to spend much money on the funeral, so despite their noble title, they had come to the Undertaker to take care of their somewhat obscure relative.

Ciel clasped his hands together more tightly and bowed his head. He never liked going to church; he had only started after he had started working for the Undertaker. The Undertaker loved funerals, called them the "most important day of one's life". Ciel had snickered at the irony of the statement the first time the Undertaker had told him that.

The ceremony ended with the coffin being carried out of the church, followed by a thin stream of black-clad teary-eyed lesser nobles. Whoever this person had been, they obviously weren't all that important in the nobility.

Ciel slipped out of the church through the back door and cut across the cemetery on his way back to the shop. He was a little more than halfway across the small plot of land when he stopped where he was and ducked behind a headstone.

A man was standing in front of a grave, looking down at it. He was very well dressed, even for a nobleman. His inky black hair elegantly framed his pale face. Upon closer inspection, the boy could see that the name engraved on the stone was Jenny Knoll, the first victim of the poisoner. Ciel wanted to sneak in and get a closer look at the strange man, but something in the back of his mind told him no, this was too suspicious. He was about to turn around and find the Undertaker to go home when the man turned around and looked right at him, his red eyes smoldering. "Come out. I know you're there."

Ciel froze, crouched behind the old headstone. The man had seen him! He knew he was here! The boy stayed where he was, not sure of what to do. If he ran now, what would the man do? Would he chase him or let him go? He would probably let him go, seeing as he had not stolen anything from him.

Ciel was about to turn and leave when the man suddenly strode over to where he was hiding and knelt down so the boy was staring directly into the man's dark red eyes. Ciel jumped back, scuttling backward until his back hit another headstone farther away. "Wh-what d'ya want, sir?"

The man smirked. "Judging from your accent, you're not one of the rats I see running around here. Though you're only a fraction of a step above."

Ciel opened his mouth to say something in retaliation, but stopped. The man was observant enough to hear that he was starting to get over his thick accent by living with the Undertaker. Getting mixed up with someone this observant was not going to help him at all.

The man took a few steps closer to Ciel, closing the gap between them. "What is your name, boy?" he asked, more a demand then a request.

Ciel fought the lump forming in his throat. He swallowed hard. "C-Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive."

"Phantomhive, eh?" the man said, "Very impressive sounding name for a street boy."

Ciel stood up, looking down at the kneeling noble. "What's yer name?"

"Don't look down on one of higher class than you," the man said, standing up and dusting himself off. Ciel noticed for the first time that this man was actually quite tall.

"I aksed ya a question. Who're ya?"

"No one a grave robber should be concerned with."

"I ain't a grave robber!" Ciel shouted, "I work fer the Undertaker!"

The man raised an eyebrow. "The Undertaker? Sounds familiar." He leaned forward until his face was inches apart from Ciel's. "Care to elaborate?"

Ciel shrugged away from him. "Why should I tell ya anythin'? ya won't e'en tell me yer name!"

The man stood up straight, sighing with obvious impatience. "Fine. You can call me Sebastian."

"Sebastian what?"

"Just Sebastian. You don't need to know anything more."

"Like 'ell I don't!" Ciel shouted, "I told ya where I work an' my full name! I need ta know who's all I'm talkin' ta!" The funeral procession was making its way across the graveyard toward the coffin's final resting place. A few of the mourners turned their heads to Ciel's shouts, trying to figure out why a ragged boy was conversing with a noble.

Sebastian glanced over at the gathering out of the corner of his eye. "This is no good," he said under his breath, "We'll have to continue this conversation somewhere else."

Ciel stepped back once again, putting a headstone between them. "No way in bloody 'ell am I goin' somewhere with you!"

Sebastian smirked. "Alright, if you say so. Oh, while I'm on the subject, what are you doing working for a mortician when you can make much more pickpocketing people like me?"

"None've yer business!" Ciel threw in his face before turning away and running toward the fading procession. As he ran away from Sebastian, he caught a parting request from the strange man:

"If you'd be so kind, tell that Undertaker that Sebastian sends his greetings as a fellow investigator."

"Some noble showed up at the graveyard today durin' the funeral," Ciel announced over supper that evening. The Undertaker, Grell, and himself were seated around a small table in the apartment over the shop, eating stew that Ciel had just prepared. "He said his name's Sebastian or somethin'"

The Undertaker looked up from his spoonful of stew. "Oh? What did he say?"

Ciel avoided the Undertaker's gaze. "'e said 'e wanted ta send 'is greetin's as a fellow investigator."

The Undertaker's eyes widened under his curtain of grey hair, his spoon still suspended halfway to his mouth. "As a fellow investigator… you say?"

Ciel nodded. "Tha's what 'e told me ta tell ya."

Grell gulped down a mouthful of stew before joining in the conversation. "What is it, my cute little death god? Something up with that Sebastian guy?"

The Undertaker remained frozen for a few seconds more. Suddenly, he shook his head and looked around, the spell broken. "What? Oh, it's nothing."

Ciel leaned forward in his seat. "D'ya know Sebastian, Undertaker?"

"I've seen him a few times," the Undertaker said, "definitely heard about him."

"Who is 'e?!" Ciel asked loudly, "I kept aksen' 'im 'bout who 'e was, but 'e wouldn't tell me anythin'! Jus' 'is first name: Sebastian!"

The Undertaker chuckled, shaking his head. "You don't know much about the English nobility, do you, Ciel?"

Ciel shook his head, embarrassed. "No, sir."

The Undertaker chuckled again. "A noble named Sebastian who claims to be investigating the poisoning incident. It's got to be the duke."

"H-he's a duke?!" Grell interjected, excited as ever, "Why's a duke hanging around a graveyard?"

The Undertaker nodded. "If I'm guessing correctly, you ran into Duke Sebastian Micaelis, Ciel. He's a very rich close friend of Queen Victoria."

Grell shot Ciel a huge grin. "Aren't you lucky, Ci-Ci! You're friends with a duke!"

"I'd 'ardly call that swell a friend," Ciel grumbled under his breath, clearing the dishes and carrying them into the kitchen to be washed. Turning on the water and pouring the soap into the tub, Ciel thought about the encounter at the graveyard as he scrubbed and dried.

So Sebastian was a duke, huh? It wasn't surprising, seeing as how he was so dressed up when he had seen him visiting Miss Knoll's grave. Not to mention how self-absorbed he had been during their conversation. Ciel scrubbed a plate with a newfound fury. He would not let that narcissistic duke talk down to him as much as he had that day the next time they met. That is, if they met again.

Ciel switched to drying the dishes as he continued thinking. They probably would not meet again, now that he thought about it. Sebastian was a duke and he was a low-class boy working for a mortician. Quite the gap between their statuses.

But why was he so interested in seeing Sebastian again in the first place? Ciel had only met him once, and very briefly at that. So why was he thinking about their next meeting already?

"Bloody duke," Ciel grumbled as he put the plates away. He was about to reenter the main room of the little upstairs apartment when the Undertaker and Grell's voices made him stop.

"What do you think about this, Undertaker?" Grell asked, his voice much more serious than Ciel had ever heard it, "Ci-Ci's encounter with the duke could be useful."

"It could very well be," the Undertaker replied, "But it could mean trouble if used the wrong way."

"Used the wrong way? Like how?"

A sigh from the other room reached Ciel on his side of the door. "Like if Duke Micaelis decides to rat us out and say that we were the ones who killed Miss Middleton. That kind of trouble."

"Ouch. That would be bad," Grell said. A pause. "So you still haven't answered my question: what are we going to do? We can't just let this lie and pretend like it didn't happen."

"We could do that. We _are_ death gods, Grell. What happens in the human world does not concern us until souls need to be collected."

Grell laughed. "You say that as a retired death god who hasn't seen the death god library in decades. Is that really what you think?"

"I don't know. I _do_ know that this could cause my business to go under and Ciel possibly being hanged. Not me, though," he added, a smirk in his voice, "I'd go back to the death god realm with you before they found me."

"Of course you would, my adorable Undertaker!" Grell squealed, "I'm surprised at myself for not dragging you back there already!"

Ciel gaped at the closed door in shock. Was the Undertaker really not going to do anything about this?! He was really going to go back to the realm of the death gods and leave him here to hang?! He burst through the door, ready to scream and curse his heart out at his shabby boss.

"Hi Ci-Ci!" Grell said, smiling ear to ear like always. He stood up straight from giving the Undertaker a huge hug around the neck, "Finish the dishes?"

Ciel shot the red haired death god a dark look and sat back down in his seat. "Yeah, I did. Ya finish yer conversation already?"

The Undertaker sighed and leaned back in his creaky chair. "Oh, so you heard that? I figured as much."

"You're plannin' ta abandon me! Yer bloodly leavin' me!"

"Not yet, not any time soon," the Undertaker said.

"Then what was all that talk jus' now?! Ya said yer goin' ta leave me ta be topped an' go back ta the death god world with Grell like the bloomin' mandrake ya are!"

Grell ignored the boy's horrible curses and swearing. "That's just worst case scenario, Ci-Ci. If there's a way to get out of being found out and hanged, then we're definitely taking it."

"Then what the bloody 'ell're ya buggers goin' ta do so's I don't get nibbed?!"

The Undertaker rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his hand. "That's what Grell and I are trying to figure out. We definitely need to get on the duke's good side, so he doesn't think to turn us in to get credit for catching the poisoner."

"We could try to find more information about the poisoner!" Grell piped up, "You know, so we have bargaining chips if he calls on us again." He cast a sidelong glance at Ciel. "You tell him anything about yourself?"

"I told 'im my name's Ciel Phantomhive an' I work fer the Undertaker," Ciel said sheepishly, realizing the stupidity of his actions as he announced them.

The Undertaker cursed loudly. "To think I took you in because I thought you had some brains," he said.

Grell shook his head. "No matter now. We need to focus on what we're doing from here on out. I vote we try to find a list of suspects!"

The Undertaker thought for a moment. "That's probably our best bet. The duke's investigating the poisonings, too; he should already be putting together a list of suspects. If we're looking for possible culprits, too, then he's less likely to see us as suspects ourselves."

Grell's hand shot up like a little boy's in a classroom. "I can do the investigating!"

The Undertaker nodded his approval. "That's a good idea. I need to continue my work in the shop, after all. As for you…" he turned his attention to Ciel, who was still fidgeting with embarrassment at his stupidity in the graveyard earlier.

"Yessir?"

The Undertaker grinned. "We'll need someone who can act as a correspondent between us and the duke. You'll be that link."

The boy's fidgeting suddenly stopped. "What?! You want me ta sneak into the richest parts o' London and talk ta that duke e'ery day?!"

"Well, of course. I thought you would be happy to do anything to save your own neck," the Undertaker said, frowning. He leaned across the table and delicately pushed the boy's black hair out of his eyes, grinning. "Besides, I'm sure the duke will be more than happy to see you."

Ciel rolled his eyes and stood up. "Bugger off," he grumbled, turning around and going downstairs to finish his chores for the night.

**Woot Sebas-chan is finally here! Next chapter in a week, as always :D Be back here on the 30th of October for more!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Happy Halloween, everyone! And what better way to celebrate the *day before* than with a new chapter of The Undertaker's Apprentice?! Because I sure can't think of anything... except helping set up for a family halloween party _; now that's what I call holiday spirit. But I digress.**

**Oh! On the topic of digressions, I'm working on posting another story in the next week or two! This would be much shorter than The Undertaker's Apprentice, about 3 chapters or so. It's a Fullmetal Alchemist one, so all you Kuroshitsuji fans out there will have to survive off this story until more plot bunnies deicide to haunt me :( But read it when I post it if you like FMA! You won't be disappointed (I hope)!**

**...getting back to the intro. Geez, I'm so off-topic this week! For Halloween, here's an extra-long chapter for you (or maybe it's just how it worked out magically...?)! Enjoy and send me reviews! I really like reading them and hearing what you think about the story :D Tell me what you think!**

**For the link... eh, I'm feeling lazy. If you want the link, I've posted it 3 times in the author notes of Chapters 1-3. Forgive me for my sluggishness.**

**And now... CHAPTER 4!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

East End was nothing like the rest of London. Ciel scrambled down a crowded street on his way to Sebastian's mansion on his first job as the correspondent between the Undertaker and the duke. He dodged a carrige as the message he was supposed to relay ran through his head: he was going to explain what was going on and that the Undertaker was compiling a list of subjects, if the duke had anything to add to the list. It would have been simple enough, if the desitnation had been anywhere but the duke's mansion.

Grell had found out Sebastian's address the day after this whole arrangement had been set up. It was on the outskirts of London, in an area known for its lavish estates and wealthy inhabitants. Ciel reached a large square and looked around for someone who might be willing to give him a ride. He spied a man leaning against a small cart, smoking a pipe. He ran over to him. "Sir, could ya take me ta this address?" he said when he reached him. He took out the slip of paper Grell had written the address on and handed it to the man, who read over it.

Then man looked up at Ciel and raised an eyebrow. "Wot'cha doin' out in those parts, lad?"

Ciel dug around in his pockets and came up with five pounds. "Three pound more if ya keep quiet," he said, keeping his voice low.

The man stood up straight, nodding and taking the money. "Ah, go' it. You seein' someun?"

"Somethin' like that," Ciel said, casting his gaze away into the crowd.

The man shook his head and rapped his pipe against the side of the cart. "Git in. I'll take ya where ya need ta go." He turned away from Ciel and climbed up into the seat at the front. "Wot kids'll do these days fer a few shillin's…"

Ciel ignored the man's last comment and made himself as comfortable as he could in the piles of hay that filled the cart. He peeked through a small hole in the side of the cart and watched as London flew by. First the East End fell away, and then the cart was travelling along the Thames and over London Bridge. Ciel watched in awe as London passed behind him. The cityscape of London stretched all around, a grey fog settled over the tops of the buildings.

Ciel pointed to a huge building spanning a ways down the banks of the Thames River. "What's that? Some palace?"

"Aye, that's Buckingham Palace," the man said, "Queen Victoria 'erself lives there. Don' git out on the town much, d'ya lad?"

"Not outside o' East End," Ciel replied, "You?"

"I 'aves a farm outside a the city," the man said, "Come 'ere ta sell me crops an' git some chink fer me fam'ly."

"Ah," Ciel said, settling back into his nest in the hay, "Fer yer fam'ly, eh?" Ciel had not known his family very long himself before they had… disbanded. The gattering he and his parents had lived in had burned to the ground a few years ago, killing both his mother and father. The boy curled up and tried to warm himself against the chilly London air. "Not like I miss 'em," he muttered to himself.

The cart clattered along London Bridge and out of London, travelling down a wide near-empty road. A few fancy carragies rattled past, but other than that the scene was quiet. At long last, the cart came to a halt.

"Here ya are," the man said over his shoulder.

"Thank ya, sir," Ciel said, standing up and stretching.

The man held out his hand. "I'll keep quiet 'bout all this."

Ciel took out the promised three pounds and handed them to the man. "This where Duke Micaelis lives?" he asked, turning his gaze to the huge manor before them.

"Aye, it is," the man said, pocketing the money, "Ya sure ya want me ta leave ya here?"

Ciel nodded. "I've got business 'ere."

The man avoided the boy's gaze and flicked his reins. "If'n 'e does… someun funny, I've got nothin' ta do wit it, got it?"

"Got it," Ciel said, turning away and walking up the long walkway to the front door. He heard the man's cart begin to roll away down the road as he rang the bell at the door.

After a minute or two, the door opened to reveal a glasses wearing maid. "H-hello?" she asked timidly.

Ciel cleared his throat, attempting to sound as civilized as possible. "'ello. I'm Ciel Phantomhive. Your master knows me. Is 'e in?"

The maid squinted at him through her huge glasses. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. You say you know the duke?"

"Yes, I do," Ciel said, "Met 'im two days ago at a funeral."

The maid began the close the door. "I-I don't think master wants to see a—"

Ciel took a step forward into the doorway, propping the door open. "A what? A poor thief from the East End? A ladybird lookin' fer work?!"

"N-no—"

Ciel sighed. "Sorry. What's yer name?"

The maid hesitated. "M-Merlyn."

"Merlyn," Ciel started again, "Could ya please let me in? My master sent me ta tell the duke somethin' important."

Merlyn was still for a moment, pondering her options. At last, she said, "You be quick about it?"

Ciel nodded. Merlyn opened the door all the way and let him in. "I'll announce your arrival to the duke. He's in his study at the moment."

Ciel waited in the marble foyer as Merlyn went off to tell Sebastian about his surprise visit. He busied himself by looking around the room. It was beautifully built, with a wide staircase at the far end of the room leading up to the other levels and marble columns around the outer edges of the floor. Ciel wandered around , looking at the paintings. They were all of the duke, in some way or another. Here he was sitting in a gondola in Venice, and here he was in a beautiful gazebo somewhere in the countryside.

There were smaller photographs, too. Ciel looked through them, mouth agape in wonder. Sebastian was apparently quite the traveler. He had a caption for each photo telling where it had been taken. There were pictures from Africa, France, even India. "Blimey," Ciel breathed, "This guy's even more full of himself than I thought!"

"Um, the master is ready to see you, Ciel," Merlyn said. Ciel turned away from the photographs and followed the maid through a few corridors before pausing outside of a large redwood door. Merlyn gestured to the door. "This is the master's study. He's waiting in there."

"Thanks," Ciel said, grabbing the door handle and pushing the door open. The study's walls were completely lined with bookshelves, illuminated by the sparse candlelight and the sunlight shining through the windows. Ciel took a few steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. He looked around. "'ello? Sebastian?"

"Good afternoon, Ciel Phantomhive," a dark figure said, rising from its seat at the large hardwood desk, "Merlyn said you came on behalf of the Undertaker?"

Ciel gulped when he saw the duke's familiar red eyes as they locked with his cerulean blue ones. "H-hello, Sebastian. Or, _Duke Micaelis._"

Sebastian paused for a moment, confused. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing.

Ciel felt his cheeks go hot. "Wh-what's so funny?! Quit makin' fun 'o me!"

Sebasitan's laugher subsided enough to allow him to speak. "Being formal does not suit you in the least, Ciel," he smirked, "I told you my name was Sebastian for a reason. Have a seat."

Ciel plopped down into an armchair in front of Sebastian's desk, not caring about ettiquite anymore now that the duke had said it didn't matter.

The duke took his seat again on the other side of the desk. "So what's the news from the Undertaker?"

Ciel looked Sebastian in the eye and leaned forward in his seat. "Before I tell ya, answer me somethin'."

"Depends on what it is."

"How d'ya know the Undertaker?"

Sebastian folded his hands on his desk. "You obviously don't know, but I busy myself with solving crimes around London. Much more interesting than managing this dull estate and companies."

"What company?"

"Again, you don't need to know."

"There ya go again!" Ciel shouted, jumping out of his seat, "Ya expect me ta tell ya e'erythin' I know and ya won't tell me a thing 'bout yerself!"

"I'd think you would have enough sense to expect as much."

"I do have sense! Quit callin' me a glock!"

Sebastian sighed, bored. "I do not know nor do I care to know what a glock is, but I do know that this is trying on my patience. If you have something to say, say it now."

"Answer my question first! How d'ya know my boss?!"

"Like I said, I solve crimes on my spare time. The Undertaker is a rather reliable informant, if I do say so."

Ciel paused. "An informant? Like a nose? That kinda informant?"

Sebastian sifted through his papers. "As I said before, I am not too familiar with cant. Learn some proper English, and while you're at it, brush up on those manners."

"Why would a toff like yerself care 'bout a street boy's manners?!"

Sebastian smirked. "A boy should always be respectful to those older and of higher station than him. Wouldn't you agree?" He looked up from his papers, catching Ciel's eye with a dark look. Ciel quickly glanced away. Sebastian smirked and went back to looking over the papers. "What were you sent here to tell me?"

"M-me an' the Undertaker are investigatin' the poisonin's of Jenny Knoll an' Elizabeth Middleton. We're makin' a suspect list, if ya wanted ta add anyun," Ciel spilled, the words falling from his mouth in a nervous stream.

"It's still too early to have any concrete suspects," the duke said, setting the papers aside and focusing on Ciel. The boy looked down at his hands to hide his red face. "I do have some ideas for what kind of person the killer is, though."

"Wh-what would that be?"

"Well," Sebastian said, "Miss Knoll was found behind a mansion belonging to an elderly couple. I interviewed them, and both are either too senile to remember the girl if they had killed her or they were too sick and frail to have carried out the murder in the first place."

"It was poison. It doesn't take much ta slip a little inta a drink."

"They have both been bedridden for six weeks. They could not have poisoned her. They had no motive. Miss Knoll had no connection to the couple or the neighborhood. Her body must have been moved."

"Elizabeth Middleton was found in an alley not far from the shop," Ciel said.

"So location isn't a constant," Sebastian mused, leaning back in his chair, "At least, where the body was found is not."

"What d'ya know 'bout the murd'ra?" Ciel asked, feeling more comfortable now that the conversation had shifted from him to the poisonings.

The duke thought for a second before speaking. "He's probably rich. Strychnine doesn't come cheap, after all. And to afford enough to commit two murders in such a short amount of time, he's not poor."

"Miss Middleton 'ad a pentacle necklace on 'er when we found 'er," Ciel added, "Did Miss Knoll 'ave somethin' like that?"

"She had a charm with a pentacle engraved on it. There's a constant right there," Sebastian said, "The motive could be religious. The murderer might be killing people who are affiliated with the pagan beliefs."

"Pagan? Like pray ta the trees an' the devil?"

Sebastian smirked behind the ink black hair that drooped into his face. "That would be satanic worship, Ciel. Different. Though to some, not quite different enough." He leaned across the desk, gazing directly into Ciel's eyes. Ciel was frightened, but he was so captivated by the duke's sinister crimson eyes that he could not look away. Sebastian held his gaze for a few silent seconds before he spoke, his eyes narrowing. "You're afraid. Of the case or of me, which is it?" he demanded, his voice carrying the slightest hint of curiosity.

Ciel's eyes grew wide with surprise, completely taken off guard. "A-afraid? Why would I be afraid 'o someun like you?!" He looked away out the window, not daring to look back into those deep red eyes again. He was afraid of the duke. Ciel would not deny himself that truth. However, he was not so afraid that he could not hide it. Or so afraid that he would deny himself this visit to see him.

Ciel stood up from his seat, turning back to the duke to give him a piercing glare. "I've given ya all ya need ta know," he said, "I don't 'ave a reason ta stay 'ere any more. Ya 'ave anythin' fer the Undertaker?"

"Just what I told you now," Sebastian said, "And that I like this idea. Very useful for my invesigation. I'm happy with it." He got up from his desk, showing Ciel to the door. The boy had one foot out the door when he felt a light weight on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the duke's gloved hand resting there. Sebastian bent over so his head was side by side with the boy's. "And not just because of the information," he added, giving Ciel a gentle push out the door.

**Yay for SebastianxCiel! I must say, writing their dialogue is one of my favorite parts of this story ^_^ But I like the overarching mystery a lot, too *first mystery ever* Hope you liked the chapter, Halloween candy for reviewers, and next installment on November 6!**


	6. Chapter 5

**SURPRISE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! In honor of this spooky holiday (and maybe because the story's way too far behind here for what I already have written), I've decided to add an EXTRA CHAPTER this week! Yes, you are most certainly welcome ^_^**

**It's a short chapter this time, but it's pretty crucial to the story - too short for a weekly update, though. I didn't want to disappoint you all with a super short chapter on Friday after the last one's 2,000+ words! God, I'm so generous, aren't I?**

**...link? Chapter 3, fool.**

**The next chapter WILL continue to be on schedule to be posted on November 6, I just thought this would be a nice thing to do :D**

**So this chapter begins the Ciel Torture! I'm so mean to my protagonists... 0_o**

**Warnings: Have you really come all the way to Chapter 5 and not remembered the basic warnings?**

**Kyaaa on a random note, I just finished my first novel at over 150 pages! O_O No resting, though; I get to start another one on Sunday. Go NaNoWriMo 2009!!! Join if you haven't already - 50,000 words in 30 days! nanowrimo (dot) org if you're interested!**

**Getting back to the realm of Kuroshitsuji, enjoy this EXTRA CHAPTER!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

"How was the duke?" the Undertaker smiled with glee as Ciel came through the door after one of his meetings with Sebastian.

Ciel shrugged and went to the back room without saying a word.

Grell laughed and tackled the Undertaker in a hug from behind. "What're you thinking about, my cute Undertaker? You look like you're on to something!"

The Undertaker gently broke away from Grell's hug and turned around to face him. "Ciel came back from a meeting with Duke Micaelis just now."

"Aww and you're worried about him!" Grell squealed, "You're so sweet to be so concerned about him!"

The Undertaker grinned under his thick bangs. "You should know best that I am not a sweet person, Grell," he said, "As for Ciel, I must say I am a little curious about this situation. He's been quieter ever since he ran into the duke."

"He's always been on the quieter side, if you haven't noticed," Grell said, "That is, he's quiet unless you make him mad—then you have to watch out." The two death gods laughed.

The Undertaker's laughter subsided. "All jokes aside, you must admit Ciel's gotten more… reserved, I guess you could say."

"Is the duke the reason, you think?"

"Very likely," the Undertaker said, lips pulling back in a grin, "From what I've seen of the duke, he's the kind of person who can make quite the impression on someone. Especially if that someone is a impressionable boy like Ciel."

"Impressionable in what way?" Grell smirked.

The Undertaker shrugged, ending that thread of conversation. "I'll have to work more on this case than I was previously, Grell," he said, "Will you be so kind as to help me out around the shop a little from now on?"

"Oh will I!" Grell tackled the Undertaker in another gleeful hug.

The Undertaker gently pushed him off and smoothed out his rumpled clothes. "Thank you, Grell. Have you heard anything about the deaths of Miss Middleton or Miss Knoll?"

Grell made himself comfortable on the large table in the middle of the room. "I've been looking for suspects," Grell said, "Ever since Ciel first told us what Sebastian's figured out about the murderer, I've been looking for people who fit the bill."

"Any news?" the Undertaker questioned.

"A small lead," Grell said, "Though I don't know what you're going to do about following it."

"Doesn't matter," the Undertaker said, "What's the lead, Grell?"

Grell leaned back on the table and folded his hands behind his head. "Viscount Druitt," the death god began, "I've found him to be the prime suspect. He fits the criteria given to us by the duke, and he fits what we've found out about the poisoner ourselves."

The Undertaker nodded as Grell told him all this. "You know where we could find him?"

"That's the tricky part," Grell grimaced, "I don't know how you're going to get a chance to talk to him without it seeming suspicious."

"That's not an issue," the Undertaker said.

"Oh, it is," Grell assured him, "Wouldn't it be odd for a lower class mortician to suddenly show up at the Viscount's house and start to interview him about the poisonings?"

The Undertaker shrugged. "How else are we going to find anything out? If you think it would be strange for me to show up and ask the questions, we can ask the duke to do the interview."

"We could," Grell said, thinking, "but the result wouldn't be much better. If the Viscount can hide anything from us or the duke, he definitely will."

The Undertaker sighed, out of options. "You have any ideas for what we can do?"

Grell grimaced again. "We can always go somewhere the Viscount is known to visit," he said, "You know, wheedle something out of him while he's in a more relaxed atmosphere and more used to what's going on around him."

"There's a thought," the Undertaker said, "so where would we be going?"

Another unpleasant expression from Grell.

The Undertaker frowned. "What's with the face, Grell?"

Grell sat back up and shook his head. "I don't know how we're going to infiltrate this place, nor do I want to, honestly."

"It's not that big of a deal," the Undertaker said, "Whatever it is, I can get in, no problem."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Grell said, "it's what we're going to have to do to get in."

"Again, that's not a problem," the Undertaker huffed, exasperated, "we can get in anywhere."

Grell looked up and locked eyes with the Undertaker. "Even a homosexual brothel?"

The Undertaker's mouth dropped open. "Oh," he said, his voice flat, "Oh."

Grell continued. "Druitt pays visits to a certain brothel on occasion on Thursdays, around twice a month if I heard right. If we can get something together by then, we could see him this week."

"But how are we going to get in?" the Undertaker asked, "I sure as hell am not getting dragged in there."

"Nor would I let you!" Grell attacked him in another hug, "I'd never let another man touch you, my cute Undertaker!"

The Undertaker's eyebrow twitched as he tried to shake off the redhead death god. "So what are our options from here?"

**What _are_ your options from here, Undertaker? Not that I would know, being the author and everything (heh). Aaand Druitt's apparently a perv -_-; Why am I so mean?! Next chapter on November 6, as promised!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hello, my lovely readers! Hope you all had a great Halloween :D Now as the leaves turn and Thanksgiving plans are made at the beginning of this new month of November, why not sit back and relax and enjoy this new chapter of the Undertaker's Apprentice? Wow, how poetic was that? I'm just spouting creativity over here, ignore it if you wish ^_^**

**Soo I was kindly told that I have been misspelling Sebastian's last name wrong in this story! The horror! The sacrilige! :O but yeah, I'll get on that to fix it right away, so don't worry about it in future chapters :)**

**And last chapter wasn't exactly the very beginning of Ciel's woes, sorry about jumping the gun -_-; but THIS chapter is! The lime's coming up fast, so if you're not into that, feel free to bail. Though I assure you the story will be kicking some serious ass in later chapters. Not to mention the murderer's identity is still up in the air. What? Guilt trip? Me? No way! **

**...I love sarcasm.**

**Anyway, the important info of the week: regarding Sebastian's demonic nature, for this story I haven't made him a demon. Well, I haven't made him demonic in any way except being creepy and having red eyes, haha. But yeah, the only supernatural ones I have planned out right now are the Undertaker and Grell. Why I decided to keep those two and nix Sebas-chan fails to reveal itself to me. But for now or until stated otherwise, think of Sebastian as a not-supernatural, very rich and sexy duke ^_^**

**Now onward, my readers (and reviewers...? :D), to chapter 6!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

"What the bloody bloomin' 'ell 'ere ya two blasted mandrakes thinkin'?!" Ciel screamed.

"Now, now, Ci-Ci," Grell tried to soothe the tantruming boy's fit, "It's not going to be as bad as you think. It'll only be for a day or two—"

"An' what ya think can happen ta me in a day in a place like that?!" Ciel raged, "You two're out o' yer bloody minds!"

The Undertaker knelt down so he was at eye level with Ciel. "Listen, you," he said.

Ciel went quiet. He knew that when the Undertaker got seirous like this, it was time to pay attention and be serious himself.

"Good," the Undertaker said, "Now listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you, Ciel. You are going to go to the address I'm giving you now tomorrow morning and tell them you're looking for work. If they refuse, keep pestering them until they let you in. it's very important that you get work there, Ciel. You won't get the information from the Viscount if you don't work there."

Ciel jerked his head down so the Undertaker and Grell could not see the shame building on his face for what he was about to do. "…so you need me to be a… ladybird… fer a day, get the Viscount drunk enough to spill what he knows, an' figure out what ya need?"

The Undertaker nodded. "I'm glad you understand where we're coming from, Ciel."

"Just so you know, we're not doing this for our own enjoyment," Grell piped in, "It's pretty unpleasant business, I must say, no matter who goes and does the job."

"Shut it, Grell," the Undertaker admonished him, "You're not making this any easier on the kid."

Ciel leaned against a coffin, folding his arms. "What I'd like ta know is this," he said, "Why can't ya jus' find one o' the chavys who work there already an' pay 'em ta tell ya 'bout the Viscount?"

Grell held up his hands and shrugged. "You seriously think any of them will take the money and come back to tell us anything? Or that they'll even try to find anything if we don't pay them up front?"

"Basically, you're our best bet," the Undertaker said, "It's one day, Ciel. You'll be fine. If you get him hammered enough, I'm pretty sure he won't notice if nothing else happens."

"What 'bout gettin' me out o' there when this's all done?" Ciel asked.

Grell held up a bag and shook it. The bag's contents jingled and clinked. "All here! We'll pay the guys running the place to let you out when you find out what we need," he explained with a smile.

Ciel gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "So's yer buyin' me back, is that it?" he said darkly.

"More or less," Grell said, that silly smile still plastered across his face.

Ciel pushed away from the wall and stood up. "Ya sure there's no other way ta get info outta the Viscount?"

The Undertaker shook his head. "None that gets the information faster, or that's easier for that matter," he added.

Ciel said nothing, but took the slip of paper with the address on it from the Undertaker and ghosted across the room to the stairs leading up to the apartment.

Ciel walked to his small room, which was more of a closet than a room, and sat on his creaky bed. This was the last night he was going to spend in this room for a while, at least until Grell and the Undertaker got him out of that place. Ciel shuddered at what lay ahead for him. He was going to end up working in a brothel, just like Angela had feared.

The irony of the situation was beginning to creep up on him. He'd started working for the Undertaker in the first place because he'd wanted to stay away from the kidsmen and the brothels, and here he was ending up in the worst possible situation all because of where he worked.

He could run now. He could run away, disappear from this shop, leave all this horror behind him. He'd run to Sebastian's house, work for him as a servant. With a mansion as huge as that, there had to be something he could do to earn his keep and safety. Ciel's heart sank when he realized the gravity of the situation. At this point, the safest place he could think of was Sebastian's mansion. That said a few things about his predicament.

Ciel was frightened of the duke. He was frightened by his smoldering red eyes, his sneering smile, the demonic way he moved and handled himself. He was afraid of his sharp intelligence, the quickness with which he could deduce and decipher anything. Everything about the duke terrified Ciel, but for some reason that fear was not enough to keep him away.

Despite the terror Sebastian instigated in the boy's heart, there was something else. Something awfully alluring about the terrifying fear he felt. So tantalizingly alluring that Ciel could not help but be drawn to it. The more he thought about it, the more he needed to see Sebastian. The duke was not helping in keeping him away, either. Whenever he saw him, he would smile that demonic smirk. Ciel found it hard to leave at the end of each meeting, to break away from the dangerous gaze of the duke.

At the same time, he would be glad each time a meeting ended and he could go back to the shop. He needed to be free from Sebastian as much as he needed to be with him. Ciel knew that this was wrong, that it was wrong of him to want this so much; dukes and mortician's apprentices never found each other for more than business when it was needed. Ciel needed the ends of those meetings to come, to force him to leave and face the harsh reality of his future with Sebastian, if it could be called that.

Ciel lay down on his bed, which creaked and moaned under his slight weight. This was all terribly confusing. He wished Grell had never found Miss Middleton's corpse, so he would never have had to meet Sebastian and get caught up in this mess. This had all happened far too fast for his liking. The discovery of Miss Middleton's corpse, meeting Sebastian, finding out about Viscount Druitt, and now his mission to that brothel.

"Too much, too fast," he mumbled, covering his eyes with his forearm.

All of a sudden, Ciel shot out of bed. What was he doing, laying around? He could be trying to get out of here! He scrambled around his room, looking for anything he wanted to take with him. After this was over, he doubted the Undertaker would want to take him back once he ran away.

The boy found two pounds he had hidden away on a shelf and put them in his pocket. Looking around the room, he realized with a sad, sinking feeling that he really did not have much else to his name than those few pounds. Turning away from his room, he forced open the small window with a screech and scrambled out of it, afraid that the Undertaker had heard the noise.

Crawling out onto the roof, Ciel stood up and looked around. He was standing on the top of the roof over the front of the shop, next to the sign that read "UNDERTAKER". Carefully, he inched his way across the rest of the way to the edge of the roof on the far side of the building, where he climbed down into the narrow alley dividing the Undertaker's shop from the apartment house next door. Stealing a look behind him, Ciel set off on his way to find another place to hide.

**Can I just say I enjoyed writing that inner conflict in the last part very much? Because I had a blast. I'm sorry about the shorter update, but at least it's vital to the story (I'm going to try to stay away from filler. Can't have readers forgetting the overarching plot, now can I?). Hmm... can't really offer Halloween candy for reviews, seeing as it's all gone (^_^'), but I can offer hot tea! It's getting pretty cold now, anyway... Be back here in a week for more, on November 13! Ooh, That's Friday the 13th. Perfect for reading horror/historical mystery!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Welcome one, welcome all, to the latest chapter of The Undertaker's Apprentice. I'm currently battling my dog for space on this chair while I'm writing my author's notes, so let's see how we do :)**

**Here's a longer chapter this week for all of you! Sorry about the late evening update - I hate it too, don't think you're alone :P **

**Meh, I'm feeling a little uninspired for ANs this week... I'll thank my reviewers!!! THANK YOU REVIEWERS! There, now that that's done, what else is there...? Hm.**

**Oh yeah, about the FMA fanfic thing? In case you were wondering (I doubt it, but just in case :D) that story's currently on hold for the moment. But only until December. Then I'll get back to work on transcribing it to the computer from longhand ^_^ **

**Ohh, and in case Sebas-chan's name is misspelled (don't remember if he's in this chapter or not)... I tried to find an opportunity to change it, but alas I was not able to find time. Shoot me. Or rather, my schedule.**

**Well, that's all I have time for today! Enjoy this new installment!!!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Angela dusted off some small statues of Krishna and Vishnu, idly trying to find some venue of entertainment for herself. There had been next to no customers today, and the only visitors she had had were a few children looking for some trinkets for their parent's birthday. Angela had sold them a bag of shiny dust, claiming that it was holy dust that would cure any ailments. Obviously this had been a lie, her own little game of venting her spite at not being visited by anyone other than those children. The children had believed her lie, however outlandish, and had bought it on the spot. The older woman leaned back in her chair, yawning.

It was at that moment that Ciel came through the door of the pawnshop.

Angela leaned forward in her chair. "Ciel! 'aven't seen yer face 'round 'ere fer some time! 'ow've ya been?"

Ciel shook his head and sat down in an old wicker chair. He cast a nervous glance at the windows before turning to Angela and speaking. "Can't talk long, Angela. I've run away from the Undertaker."

"What?! What in 'eaven's name ya do that fer?! Ya 'ad a good life fer yerself there!"

"I know I did," Ciel said, "But somethin's 'appened. I can't stay there anymore."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "Somethin's 'appened? Like what?"

Ciel shut his eyes tight and balled up his fists. "The Undertaker found the suspect fer the poisonin's that've been 'appenin' 'round London."

"Really? Tha's good news," Angela said, "What could be bad 'bout that?"

"They traced the suspect ta the brothel on Cleveland. They want me ta go there tomorrow an' check it out."

"Check it out?"

"Work there 'till I find what they need an' they buy me outta there."

"Ah!" Angela gasped, covering her mouth with a papery hand, "Ciel! Don' tell me yer goin' ta do that?!"

Ciel shook his head. "Tha's the second part. I ran away from the Undertaker jus' now," he explained, "'opin' he won' find me."

"Stay with me! Ya can 'ide 'ere!" Angela was already up, busying herself by pacing around the shop and tidying up, "Ya can stay 'ere 'till whenever ya need ta!"

Ciel shook his head. "I'd never ask ya ta do somethin' like that fer me, Angela. Ya barely 'ave enough room 'ere fer yerself. I'm goin' somewhere else."

"Where would that be?"

Ciel hesitated. After a few seconds of deliberation, he spoke up. "Duke Sebastian Micaelis," he said, his voice shaking, "I'm goin' ta stay with 'im. I'm 'opin' 'e'll give me some work in 'is mansion's staff."

Angela whistled. "Climbin' on up the ranks, aren't ya? First yer workin' fer the Undertaker, now fer a duke!"

"It's not as simple as that," Ciel said, "it's… complicated."

"Like 'ow?"

"Like…," Ciel began, but stopped. He didn't quite know how to express what his relationship to Sebastian was, or his feelings toward him. "…I've been a correspondant between 'im an' the Undertaker for the past week. 'e'll give me a place ta stay."

"What makes ya so sure? He's a duke, an' ya've only known 'im fer a week. I ain't the trustin' type ta begin with, but tha' seems a bit dodgy."

Ciel sat up a little straighter, leaning in and speaking more earnestly than before. "I 'ave ta go stay with 'im, Angela! 'e's my best bet!"

"No 'e ain't," Angela said, "I'm yer safest bet, Ciel. I've taken care'a ya e'er since yer parents burned down in tha gatterin' fire. I can take ya in again!"

"No!" Ciel protested, then shrank back into his seat at the loudness of his voice. "I… I need ta see 'im, Angela," he started again, his voice soft, "I really do. I've been seein' 'im e'ery day fer the past week ta talk 'bout the murd'ra an' the cases, but I still don' know what ta make o' 'im, an' I need ta find out fer myself if… if…" The boy's voice faded out and he ducked his head, trying to hide the redness creeping onto his face.

Angela stood rooted to the spot for a few moments, letting what the boy had just said sink in. Then her eyes squinted and her lips gave a kind, gentle smile in an understanding expression. She went over to where the boy sat and knelt down next to him. "Boy, I 'ope ya know what yer getting' yerself inta," she said, "Set yerself up fer disappointment, Ciel. It makes it easier ta bear." The woman swept Ciel up into a hug and held him for a long moment before letting him go. "I won' tell the Undertaker where ya've gone," she said, "Jus' promise me one thing."

"What's that?" Ciel asked. He was surprised Angela was actually letting him go to live with Sebastian. He'd prepared himself for more of a fight, but he figured he should be grateful for each wrinkle in this journey that worked itself out without his help.

"If'n 'e does… someun' funny, git outta there," Angela said.

Ciel nodded and exited the shop, glancing around for the Undertaker or Grell. He was reminded of what the man had said when he had driven him to Sebastian's house for the first time:

"_If'n 'e does… someun funny, I've got nothin' ta do wit it, got it? _"

Ciel shook his head. Why did everyone assume that Sebastian was the one being improper? He was not the one in the wrong here, contrary to the beliefs of most of the people who knew about this. Ciel was the one chasing after him, running away from his life and going after a noble who most likely had little to no interest in him. He was the one being objectionable through everyone's eyes whether they saw it or not.

Ciel stole down a trash-lined alleyway in search of someone who would take him to Sebastian's mansion. He had been looking for hours, but he could find no one who would take him there for the amount of money he had. The boy turned his gaze up to the thin sliver of sky he could see from the alley. The sky was hazy red and purple; sunset. It was going to be dark soon, and he still had not found a ride.

Ciel ducked behind a pile of trash and thought about what to do next. He could always walk to the mansion himself. But that would take far too long, and it would give the Undertaker more time to find him. Grell was skilled at finding people and information, he would surely find him if he didn't move fast enough. It was only natural for a death god to have those skills, Ciel figured with a grimace.

A stray cat skittered across the alley, making Ciel jump. "Gotta keep movin'," he muttered to himself. He reached the end of the alley and stuck his head out onto the street, glancing around in search of Grell. He saved a separate glance for the rooftops; from what he knew of Grell's life outside the shop, he knew the death god loved being in high places.

Not finding Grell, Ciel continued on his way to find a driver. He joined the lose crowd of people walking along the sidewalk and went along with the flow of people. In a rush of frustration, he realized he'd left his hat back in his room at the shop. Trying to keep his face as hidden as possible without the assistance of it, Ciel walked on down the street to find another gathering of taxi drivers or a poor farmer who was willing to take pity on him and give him a ride.

Ciel pushed past a group of boys, ducking his head and muttering an apology. He had barely taken a single step past them before he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He froze.

"'ey yew," one of the boys said, his accent drawling with a trace of something that sounded like it came from the countryside, "Don' think yew c'n jus' push past us'n git away wit it."

The burly boy who was holding Ciel grabbed his shoulder harder, spinning him around and pushing him into a wall. Ciel gasped as the wind was knocked out of him from the force of the boy's blow.

The boy with the strange accent stepped to the front of the group of five. He grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Yew ain't gittin' away wit this, chavy. We'll make yew pay fer crossin' us." He drew back a fist and sent it flying into Ciel's stomach.

Ciel forgot to breathe. He felt his knees give out and he fell to the sidewalk, stunned at the pain rising from his gut. He gagged, tasting something like iron that he immidietly recognized as blood. He gave a soft yelp when the boys gathered around him, taking turns kicking his injured form.

The boy who had first punched him squatted by Ciel, a malicious grin on his face. "Pay up," he sneered. When Ciel didn't move, he gave a look to his gang. Complying, the four remaining boys decended on Ciel, tearing off his tattered jacket and shaking it out. A few stray pennies, along with the two pounds, fluttered and rained out of the pockets and lining. "This all yew go't?" the boy said as he picked up the money, obviously disappointed. When Ciel failed to croak out an answer, he kicked him in the gut again and pocketed the money. "Stupid kids," he grumbled, motioning with his hand to his gang that he was done. "Drop the kid off som'mare 'e c'n affo'd ta pay us back fer interruptin' ar' day," he said, already starting to walk away.

Ciel's blood ran cold at the thought of what these boys would do to him. They were quite a bit older than him, so they could definetly give him a good beating, kill him even, if they wanted to. Where would they take him? What were they planning to do to him? Ciel opened his mouth to croak out a cry for help, but was silenced by yet another blow, this time to the head. His last memory before his world went black was of the gang surrounding him again, talking amongst themselves and picking him up. Ciel could not register anything after that, and slipped into unconsciousness.

**Yaagh!! Plot twist! What will happen next?! Oh, wow, I just got a big idea for the ending of this story - gotta go write it! Be back here on November 20 for the next chapter to find out Ciel's fate :O See you all next time!**


	9. Chapter 8

**...wow this update just totally slipped my mind. BUT I remembered! And so we have chapter 8! Forgive my headache - cons and schoolwork don't exactly mix well, for the record.**

***headdesk* I feel awful about this chapter. It just makes a part of me die a little inside because of the character I switch into a new role in this story. He's too cute! Okay, you probably know who I'm talking about at this point (or you will once you start reading!), though. I grovel for your understanding - I hate adding OCs. It even killed me to add Jenny Knoll in there (no pun intended). And she wasn't even ALIVE in the story! So this was probably brought on by my need for a character to fit the part, and he seemed to fit the bill nicely.**

**I'm not going to ramble here. I'm really not. I'm not even going to ramble about rambling. I'm going to be so concise, so coherent, that you will finish these ANs with a clear knowledge of what lies in store for you this week, without knowing any spoilers for the chapter or the story. this you will do, and you will do easily and happily. for I am not going to ramble. In any way. I am not going to take up your time any more than I must to have you read this chapter. I am going to write so clearly, so thoughtfully, that you will feel that every word I am typing here is completely relevant to my quest to steal your soul, which you will not know about because you will be so enthralled by the words themselves.**

**Enough with this. Insomnia does me no good. READ ON!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel opened his eyes and sat bolt upright. The first thing he noticed was that he was not lying on the street anymore, but was instead in a bed covered in blankets. He also noticed that someone had bandaged his head, which was throbbing terribly from the blow earlier. Ciel looked around his new surroundings.

The room he was in was small, big enough to fit the bed, a splintery dresser with a lamp sitting atop it, and a chair. A window next to the bed allowed a view onto a street, not a very crowded street save for the few men and women bustling to and from their homes and jobs.

Ciel got out of bed and looked out the window. It was night, the smog in the air blocking the stars and blurring a hazy moon. The shops lining the street were what looked to be small boutiques, selling clothes and jewelery and trinkets. It looked to be a neighborhood in the West End. Something in his stomach tightened; he was on the other side of London now, in a completely different part.

Ciel tried the door, only to find it locked. "Odd," he muttered to himself, "What kinda 'otel locks in its guests?" After working on the doorknob for a while with no progress, the boy resigned himself to sitting on his bed and waiting for someone to open the door.

He did not have to wait long. After a few minutes, Ciel heard a tinkering of keys from the other side of the door, followed by the door being opened. A boy who looked to be a little older than Ciel poked his head into the room. "Oh, you're awake!" the boy said, smiling and coming the rest of the way into the room, "Sleep good?"

Ciel shrugged. "Good enough."

The boy took a seat in the chair. The moonlight reflected oddly off his blond hair, and his green eyes shone with a happy welcome. He wore an assortment of pins and clips in his hair. "I'm Finnian, by the way," he said, "but people call me Finny. Pleased ta meet'cha!"

"Ciel," Ciel introduced himself. After the incident with Sebastian, he had become more careful about giving out too much information about himself. Speaking of which, he needed to get going! The longer he stayed here, the more likely it became that Grell and the Undertaker would find him! "Where am I?" Ciel asked, anxious to be on his way, "Thank ya fer helpin' me with my 'ead, but I really 'ave ta go. Ya know any drivers who'll take me ta Merton fer two pound?"

Finny shook his head. "Sorry, that's a ways away, an' no one's going ta take you out there for two pound." Ciel noticed his accent was broken, like he was forcibly trying to rid himself of it in a short amount of time.

"Well, e'en if ya dunno where ta find one, I need one. I'll be goin' now," Ciel said, pushing past Finny and stepping toward the door. He was about to reach the door when Finny grabbed his shirt. Ciel turned to fix him with a cold glare from his cerulean eyes.

Finny flinched under his stabbing look, but he did not let his grip slacken. "You can't leave just yet," he said, mustering up enough courage to look Ciel in the eye again, "Master Hammond hasn't talked to ya yet."

"Master Hammond?"

"Yeah," Finny said, loosening his grip a bit. When Ciel did not make a move to leave, he dropped his arm to his side again. "The Master runs the house here an' takes care of us."

"Us?" Ciel asked slowly, not sure where this was going. He suddenly recalled that Finny had not yet told him where they were. "Ya never answered my question," he stated, looking down at the blond boy, "where're we?"

Finny stood up and stepped around the boy and out the door, motioning for him to follow. "Let's go talk ta Master."

Ciel followed Finny out of the room and down the hallway, cautiously looking around for clues as to where he was. All he knew was that he was in a strange hotel of sorts in West End. He was suspicious, but he couldn't do anything about it. Even if every instinct in his body was telling him to get out of there.

Finny led him down a flight of stairs and around a corner, where he knocked on a door to the right. A man with a neat haircut and a clean white shirt opened the door and let them in. Ciel and Finny took the seats in front of an old desk as the man sat down in his seat at the desk. He raised an eyebrow at Finny.

"What are you doing here, boy?" he said, voice sharp and stabbing like pins, "I said I wanted to talk to the newcomer, not you. Get out!" He waved toward the door.

Finny lowered his gaze. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," he murmered as he stood up and exited the room.

The man turned his attention back to Ciel. "I'm Charles Hammond," he introduced himself, "You will address me as Master Hammond or Master, understand?"

"Only if ya tell me where the bloody 'ell I am," Ciel hissed through clenched teeth, getting more and more frustrated with each evasion of his questions.

"You're not going to get far with an attitude like that," Hammond said, relaxing in his chair and ignoring Ciel's threats, "You'll never pay off your debts."

"Since when do I owe ya anythin'?!"

"You don't owe me anything," Hammond said, sighing, "Well, aside from those bandages."

"Then who do I owe? How much do I owe 'em?! Where'm I?!"

"You are at 19 Cleveland Street, boy," Hammond said simply, "the brothel."

Ciel's stomach felt like it had dropped through the floor. Had he just said _the brothel _and _Cleveland Street_? This was a disaster! He'd ended up in just the place he had been running away from! And all because those guys from earlier had knocked him out and brought him here! Ciel fought the urge to jump from his seat and run out of the room; he could not let Hammond see how frightened he was to be here.

Instead, he sat back in his seat and looked the man in the eye. "'ow much do I owe those prigs who brought me in 'ere?" He was surprised at the evenness of his voice.

Hammond laughed. "You're a clever one, boy," he said, his eyes betraying an underlying threat that Ciel could not place, "I get the feeling I'll make lots from the likes of you. What's your name, boy?"

"Ciel," Ciel said, his voice turning to ice as he said it. He could not—_would_ not—betray any sort of emotion in front of these people while he was here. Any reaction they got would hinder his release or would be used against him and for their benefit.

"Ciel," Hammond said, trying the name out for himself, though on his lips it just sounded vulgar, "Isn't that a girl's name? Why's a boy got a girl's name?"

The boy remained silent. He was just poking fun at him, trying to see what he was like. How far he could push him until he reached his breaking point.

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Hammond said, "Answer me! I don't like it when the boys don't answer me!"

Ciel still said nothing.

Hammond's eyes were blazing now. He leaned across the desk and burned his gaze into Ciel's face. Ciel only looked back at him with dead eyes. Hammond struck him. "Speak!"

Silence.

The man finally gave up and sat back down. "Have it your way," he said, sneering, "You won't be seeing much pay until you start acting like you want it, though! Get up!"

Ciel stood, turning toward the door. Hammond called for Finny, who opened the door and led Ciel away. The two walked the corridor in silence for a while before Finny spoke up.

"So 'ow was the Master?" Finny asked, "not too harsh, I hope?"

Ciel shook his head, keeping his gaze fixated directly in front of him.

Finny smiled a grim smile. "Sorry 'bout this," he said, "Master says that anyone who feels like fighting doesn't get paid. An' for what we do, I'd like to make sure I'm getting compensation," he added with the faintest hint of disgust.

The two reached the door to Ciel's room. Finny looked at the boy, a sad pity beginning to show itself on his face.

Ciel felt the need to retch. "_Don't_," he seethed, "show me pity. I don' bloody want it!"

Finny shook his head and dropped the expression. "Sorry. Jus' that… you're one of the youngest we've got now. How old're you?"

"Eleven."

Finny's green eyes grew wide. "Eleven?! How'd a little kid like you get mixed up in all this?!"

Ciel shrugged and pushed past Finny to his room and sat on the bed, the mattress creaking under him. Finny sighed in empathy. "It's okay if you don't want to talk," he said. He flashed a smile, even if it was forced. "If you need anythin' at all, jus' ask for me!" He closed the door, leaving Ciel to his thoughts.

Ciel balled himself up and laid his head on the mattress. He tried to think up a plan to get out of here, but came up with none. The window outside wasn't near any rooftops for climbing, and he'd be caught if he tried to run away through the house. He hugged his knees to his chest tighter. "Guess I got no choice," he breathed, his heart accelerating as the fear escalated, "I got ta stay 'ere 'till the Undertaker comes ta get me."

Ciel shut his eyes tight at the thought. The Undertaker would find him here, buy him back, and take him back to the shop. A safer alternative to where he was now, but not where he wanted to be. He wished in vain for a certain person to come save him, his frightening crimson eyes glowing beside Ciel as he would walk out the door, free.

***weeps* I'm sorry Finny! I'm sorry I have you as a slightly depressing yet sweet character and threw you into this mess! Ahem, moving on to the next chapter. Next week is Thanksgiving (woohoo food!), so I will update that Friday as usual. November 27, be there or be square!**


	10. Chapter 9

***yawn* morning, dear readers! Hope your Thanksgivings were awesome, and if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, hope you had a great week! Well, you all know what's happening if you're reading this: NEW CHAPTER! I'd do a celebratory dance, but alas my insomnia is forbidding me from doing anything that would make me any more tired X( It's a really long chapter this week, guys! Prepare yourselves! But it's awesome, so it should be worth your time :D**

**Something I wanted to add this week: I did a TON of research for this fanfic. I wanted to do a Kuroshitsuji fanfic that was based around a real historical event set in the late 1880s to 1890s, preferably involving the nobility or royalty somehow. So I was doing some research and PLOP! there it was! I found the perfect event for this story: the Cleveland Street Scandal. If you don't know what that was, it was when an all-male brothel got busted by Detective Abberline (yes, Abberline's character is based on this person!) in 1889 London and it turned out Prince Albert Victor, the second in line to the throne, had been a visitor there. Cue massive scandal for the royal family! Even though the prince's involvement was never proven, there were some pretty well-grounded rumors going around London at the time. I must admit, this event really did fit almost too perfectly into what I had been planning for The Undertaker's Apprentice 0_o**

**So yeah, this story is based on an actual historical event that happened around the time Kuroshitsuji was taking place in London, even if a few years earlier - two or so. Should I have mentioned this earlier? ^_^;**

**Read on to this unusually long chapter of The Undertaker's Apprentice!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

The Viscount Druitt arrived shortly after dusk. Ciel had no idea of the time, for Hammond apparently did not supply his rent boys with clocks for the rooms. The boy had only just drifted off into a restless sleep when he heard the door click. His eyes snapped open and he sat up with a jolt. His vision fogged and his head pounded from his sudden movement, but that was nothing compared to the fear rising in him as the man stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind him with a faint _click._

Ciel recognized the Viscount from the descriptions Grell and the Undertaker had given him. He was tall, with pale blond hair and a graceful angle to his face. He was dressed in the garb of a middle-class man, so as not to draw attention to himself as he made his way here. He walked with an air of one who has been given everything he desired for his entire life, and would expect no less from anyone. His step was unsteady, and he had to lean on the old dresser to keep from collapsing. Ciel did not move a muscle, but stared at him with expressionless eyes.

The Viscount closed the distance between them, his footsteps heavy. Ciel wrinkled his nose as the smell of alcohol flooded his nostrils. "'re you… the new one?" the nobleman slurred, "Ciel?"

Ciel did not respond to him, did not cringe as the Viscount ran his fingers along his face, down his neck, along his collarbone. He could not flinch, lest he anger the Viscount enough so he might leave without telling him anything.

"You're quiet," the Viscount mumbled, his words running together in unusual places, "'ow come?" He was looming over Ciel now, their faces inches apart. He looked as if he was about to say something more, but instead fell down onto the mattress, pulling Ciel down with him by his neck. Ciel coughed from the sudden movement.

Ciel decided this was the time to start asking questions, to avoid anything worse happening. "Sir, 'ave ya 'eard 'bout the poisonin's?"

"Uh-huh," was the Viscount's muffled reply.

The boy paused, unsure of how to proceed. "…ya worried?"

"Why woul'-I be?" he slurred, "Only people ta-get-dead're those girls. They ain' goin' after people like-me."

Ciel froze as he felt the Viscount's lips brush against his neck. This was getting to be dangerous; he needed to get out of here! He tried to pull away, but the Viscount grabbed his shoulder and held him fast. "Were're ya goin'? Don' forget I'm payin' ya."

Ciel tried to pull away again, but his head was beginning to cloud over again. This time, he was sure the problem wasn't the blood rushing to his head and it wasn't sleep deprivation. He eyed the now cold cup of tea Finny had brought him an hour ago; he knew there had been something off when he had tasted it.

His body was weakening, his ability to fight against the Viscount disappearing. At this rate, he was going to pass out before he could get any information out of this man. Not to mention the horrible things that were sure to follow the minute he stopped fighting.

"Sir," Ciel tried, his voice beginning to slur as well, "d'ya know… anythin' 'bout… the pagans?"

"Pagans? Why're ya askin' me somethin' like-that?"

Ciel was about to blabber out some unintelligible excuse when all the alcohol the Viscount had consumed suddenly became useful; the man proceeded to answer Ciel's question without a thought in the world.

"Strange group 'o people, pagans-are. Prayin' ta the devil an' castin' spells. Goin' straigh' ta 'ell."

Something Sebastian had said at their first meeting when Ciel had commented on the pagan religion drifted to the front of his mind: "_That would be satanic worship, Ciel. Different. Though to some, not quite different enough."_

_Just what I needed ta hear from this pervert,_ Ciel thought. His chest tightened at the thought of the duke; here he was, getting molested by some perverted noble after being mugged by a street gang, and all in an attempt to see Sebastian! "'e probably won' e'en care," Ciel grumbled under his breath.

"Wha' you-say, boy?" Druitt slurred once again. He did not wait for Ciel to answer him, but instead busied himself with the buttons on Ciel's shirt. The boy started to draw back, but he could not pull his shirt away from the man's grasp. His vision started to grow hazier, his muscles beginning to relax. Ciel tried to fight, but it only seemed to invigorate Druitt, making it harder to get away. The last thing Ciel remembered before blacking out for the second time in twenty-four hours was his shirt being pulled off him and being roughly pushed down onto the bed.

* * *

Ciel woke up, once again confused as to what had happened before he had passed out. Only this time, finding out just what had happened was one of the last things he ever wanted to do.

Druitt was gone. Ciel looked around from the bed, morning sunlight teasing his sleep-laden eyes. His gaze drifted down to the floor where, to his deep horror, his clothes were cast all about. Suddenly self-conscious, he quickly jumped out of the bed and dressed himself. He looked back over at the bed, disgust welling up in his gut.

He felt filthy. Ciel knew what most likely happened once he had passed out the previous night, and he had never been so ashamed and…_ dirty._ He was dirty now, unfit to be in the presence of anyone with at least a little self-respect. It was disgusting! He had let the Viscount do all manner of vulgar things to him, all for the sake of finding out information about the murder cases!

Ciel reached for the door and turned the knob. To his surprise, the door opened. _Must not be angry enough ta lock me up again,_ he thought, stepping out of the room and walking down the hallway in search of something to eat.

He did not have to go far before he came across a small room on the ground floor that appeared to be a tiny kitchen. Ciel glanced around to make sure no one was watching him, then ducked into the room. Opening cupboards at random, he looked through the kitchen until he found an apple and a piece of bread. Ciel was about to bite into the apple when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Ciel froze and dropped the food, too frightened to turn around. Had Hammond caught him stealing from the kitchen?! The boy did not even want to think about what would happen to him if he were caught.

"Hey, don't throw a fit," a familiar voice said, laughing, "Jus' wanted to tell you the Master doesn't like it when we steal food."

Ciel let out the breath he had been holding and turned around, relieved. "G'morning, Finny."

Finny laughed again. "Morning? It's almost noontime! I covered for you so ya could get some sleep—you're new here, after all." He looked quite proud of himself for his generosity, if a bit sheepish.

Ciel nodded a thank you, but said nothing. Now that the relief of not being discovered by Hammond had passed, something else was taking its place. Betrayal. Finny had given him a cup of tea a short while before the Viscount had paid his visit, and that cup of tea had been drugged. Finny was responsible for what had happened last night. Ciel knew it.

The boy shot a look at Finny. Finny composed himself, looking completely serious for the first time in Ciel's memory. "What's wrong?" he asked, "Somethin's bothering you."

Ciel only uttered a single word, but he did so in such an icy, piercing way it might as well have been a razor. "Tea."

Finny raised an eyebrow, confused. He scratched his head. "Tea? What tea?"

Ciel just glared at him. How could someone forget giving him something like that?

Finny thought for a few seconds more, then finally realized what Ciel was referencing. "Oh! You mean the tea I gave you yesterday? That tea?"

Ciel gave a stiff nod.

The older boy didn't seem to understand. "What about it? did I make it wrong? Master always says that I don't put enough tea leaves in it for the amount of water or it's too cold or—augh!" he shook his head, ashamed, "there's always something wrong with what I do, no matter what it is!"

Ciel huffed impatiently and folded his arms. Finny didn't seem to know that the tea had been drugged. Then who had put drugs in his tea? Ciel thought he had a pretty good idea.

"Finny," he demanded. The older boy looked over at him, still embarrassed about the quality of the tea. "Did'ja bring the tea ta anyun before ya gave it ta me?"

"Um…," the boy said, scratching his head again. Ciel rolled his eyes; Finny was not the brightest tool in the shed, but at least his heart seemed to be in the right place. "Ah! I got it! I brought the tea to the Master, because 'e said that you wanted some tea. Then I brought it to you."

Ciel nodded. He had been right; Hammond was behind the drugged tea. Changing the subject to get Finny's mind off why he had asked about it, he said, "Where're all the others? I 'aven't seen anyun else around 'ere."

Finny shrugged. "Most of 'em have day jobs. You know, like paperboys or stable hands. They come 'round here in the afternoons."

Ciel picked up the food he had dropped and set it on a small table, taking a seat. Finny sat across from him. The two sat in silence as Ciel ate, not sure how to continue this steadily more and more awkward conversation. A distant knock at the door made Finny jump.

"What's that?" Ciel asked, noting the surprise on the other boy's face.

"Shh!" Finny clamped a hand over Ciel's mouth, silencing him. "Master told me he might pay us a visit today. We gotta keep quiet 'till the Master takes care of this."

Sure enough, Hammond promptly emerged from his office and made his way to the door. The two boys watched through the open kitchen door as he opened it to reveal a redheaded man wearing a greenish-grey overcoat. He was holding some papers. "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Mr. Abberline," Hammond said, welcoming him into the front hall and gesturing to his office. Abberline followed his lead and the two disappeared into the office for their meeting.

"Who's that?" Ciel asked once the door had been closed, keeping his voice low.

"Fred Abberline," Finny said, "a detective. He's had his eyes on this place for a while—he's probably on to us and what's going on here. He's visited before, maybe twice in the past few months."

"'e's a jack, ya say?" Ciel repeated, turning this over in his head. This was perfect! When Abberline came back out of the office, he could go and tell him about what has happening! Abberline would let him off the hook for being mixed up in it if he was the one to turn everyone in, right?

Except… _that_. Ciel looked down at the browning apple core in his palm. He had no right to think of himself as any higher than the rest of these rent boys anymore, not after what had happened the previous night. If he turned everyone in now, he'd just be shooting himself in the foot, and he'd be arrested along with them.

The boy crushed the apple core in frustration. Was there really no way for him to get out of here?! He needed to get to Sebastian's manor, and fast!

"Hey, Finny," he said.

Finny looked over at him from the doorway. "Yeah?"

"D'ya 'ave any way 'o getting' outta 'ere without Hammond noticin'?"

Finny thought for a moment, then looked at the younger boy curiously. "I don't really have a need for things like that. I've got food and shelter 'ere, along with fairly decent wages. Don't really wanna go running away from that, do I?"

Ciel sighed. Maybe Finny really couldn't help him. He'd have to find a way out of this mess on his own. Getting up from his seat, Ciel began to pace around the first floor, careful to not make too much noise. The first floor of the townhouse was small, with the kitchen, a seating area, a washroom, and a dining room in addition to Hammond's office. It had most likely been a regular house before Hammond had turned it into the brothel it was now.

Ciel turned and made his way into the front hall. His hands were itching to touch that doorknob, his feet aching to run down the street and away from here, and all he had to do was open that door and…

The click of a door opening and the creaking of floorboards made the boy's blood run cold. "Ciel? I didn't hear you wake up."

Ciel shut his eyes tight and held his breath. He heard someone come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. "Who is this boy, Mr. Hammond?"

"My nephew," Hammond's low voice responded. Ciel still did not turn around, but stayed stiff under the detective's hold. Should he turn them in right now? Would he be arrested along with Hammond and Finny?

Abberline turned Ciel around and knelt down to eye level with the boy. "How long have you lived here, boy?" he asked.

"I've been 'ere since yesterday," Ciel said, "I'm visitin' my uncle."

Abberline's eyes narrowed only the slightest amount. "Where are you visiting from?"

It was like rotting from the inside out with each word that was spoken. "Wales."

"Your accent isn't from Wales," Abberline pressed.

"Ever been to Wales?" Ciel returned, trying to hide his accent the best he could.

"Not in a few years, but—"

"Things change in a few years," the boy said, "I'm visiting my uncle."

Abberline held Ciel's cold gaze for a few seconds more, but stood up and opened the door. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Hammond," he said, putting on his hat. He exited and shut the door before Hammond could return the goodbye.

Silence passed through the house for a few seconds as the detective's footsteps faded away. Hammond smirked. Ciel could have sworn he heard a split second of a laugh before he held the door to his office open and gestured for Ciel to go in.

Ciel sat in the same worn out chair he'd sat in when he was in this office the previous day. Hammond followed suit and leaned back in the chair across the desk. He stared him down, amusement playing in his eyes. "Impressive acting," he said.

Ciel remained silent and motionless.

Hammond shook his head and reached for a cigar. "Still not talking, huh?" muttered, more to himself than the boy sitting across from him. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with that dangerous mirth again. "I'll bet you won't be able to stay silent when I tell you who came by this morning."

Ciel sat up a bit straighter. Had it been Sebastian?! Had Sebastian wondered where he was and gone to ask where he was?! Or was it—

"Two guys showed up to try to buy you out of here," Hammond said, sounding nonchalant but watching the boy's reaction with measured eyes, "One had silver hair and the other bright red hair. They offered me 150 pounds for you. You know what I said?"

Ciel's heart sank. So the Undertaker and Grell had figured out where he was. That was good, at least until he left here. Only if they had arrived this morning, offered the money, and he was still here, then…

"I refused it, of course!" Hammond said, obviously relishing this, "After all that money you brought in last night from the Viscount, you think I'd sell you for only 150? 'course not!" The man stood up and placed his hands on the desk, leaning forward. "You might've gotten out of here today, if you told Abberline the truth back there," he said, "Good thing you didn't. More money for you and me, and I keep my business."

Ciel ground his teeth together and looked away from Hammond's menacing figure. The air in the office had suddenly gotten too hot, too stuffy. He needed to get out of here, somewhere he could breathe. He stood up and left the office without a word to the man, nor did he wait for a dismissal.

On his way to his room, Ciel passed by Finny. "Hey!" the blonde greeted him, cheerful as if the scene with Abberline had never happened, "What the Master say to you? Good news, I hope, 'cause that was a really good act just then—" Ciel rushed by him and dashed up the stairs to his room. He burst through the door and threw himself on the bed, trying to stifle the terror that was creeping though his chest.

He only stayed on the bed for a few seconds before memories of what had happened the previous night right where he lay flooded his brain. He bolted out of the bed and rolled up in the opposite corner of the room, holding his knees to his chest and bowing his head. "Sebastian where are you?" he breathed, so quiet and fearful he did not recognize his own voice. He stayed like that, repeating the duke's name and swaying back and forth for what felt like hours before he heard a knock at the door. He jumped up and opened the door.

"You feeling alright?" Finny asked, big eyes all concern for the boy, "You looked pretty upset earlier. Is everything okay? Not that it's my place to ask, I was just worried an—"

"What are you talking about?" Ciel snapped, voice cold as frozen metal, "I am perfectly fine. Nothing for anyone to take pity on me for, and nothing to bother wondering about. Now go away and leave me in peace."

Finny's eyes grew huge; the jab had struck home. He stood in the doorway, staring at Ciel in disbelief at the young boy's icy countenance. Ciel shut the door before he could say anything more and stumbled across the room to hold himself up on the windowsill, looking out over Cleveland Street and all the people below, ignorant to his suffering.

Ciel bowed his head again and shut his eyes tight, taking deep breaths. If this hell continued much longer, he would surely lose his mind.

**Abberline rocks my socks. Sorry, just had to get that out there :D Now if you shall excuse me, I'm going to bed before my head explodes from the lack of sleep i've been getting lately. Off to sleep until noon, kotobaka is outta here! Next chapter on December 4!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Well, has this been one hell of a week or what?! Or maybe that's just me. I had a great week. Did you? Good :) Because that week just got even better, with a new chapter of the Undertaker's Apprentice! *happy dance***

**Announcements... Happy birthday to imaginedreams22! Even though you said your birthday was on Thursday ^_^; congrats on another year! Oh, and did I mention I just wrote 50,000 words in a month?! Woohoo!!! Man, I'm still on a writer's high from that. Now I'll actually have time to get back to this story! :D **

**I'm sorry for the delay in updating :( Lots of crap came up (luckily I still have wifi, though ^_^). Life comes at you fast. Be prepared with Nationwide.**

**That previous statement of discreet unintentional, unaffiliated advertising just reminded me of something I might want to have somewhere in here...**

**BELATED DISCLAIMER: If I owned Kuroshitsuji... fangirls would be having seizures. I also do not own Nationwide, unfortunately. If I did, I could even try to own Kuroshitsuji. But alas, neither of those unattainable dreams is reality. **

**And one more announcement before we head on in for this new chapter! When I was perusing the Kuroshitsuji archives last week, I came up with a very interesting (very well written) story by tsusami called Cleveland Street. It's based on the same scandal that this one is, but it's from a more canon-faithful angle. So check it out - be warned that it's rated M, though. But if you're reading the Undertaker's Apprentice, I don't think tsusami's story is much more intense, from what I've read. Anyway, it's a very well written story, and I had no idea that it was here until last week, but I'm so glad I found it. So if you like the Undertaker's Apprentice, know that there's another fic similar to it that might be worth your time :) Great job, tsusami, by the way.**

**Wow, lots to say this week! But as Rafiki says, "It doesn't matter! It's in the past!" Whoa, I'm just full of random popular culture quotes today, aren't I (I don't own Rafiki, either. Or The Lion King. Geez, I need some money...)? So getting back on track, here's the latest update!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

The next few days were the closest thing Ciel would ever come to a living hell. Most memories of what occurred were blurry, all run together and mixed up, but what he did remember he remembered vividly.

People came every night to see him. In the brief time he had been at the brothel, he had accumulated a rather high request rate, according to Hammond. He was paid a good amount for these "services", but he never saw a single shilling of it. Ciel guessed Hammond was giving it to those thugs who had mugged him and brought him here; they _had_ said they wanted payment, after all. The boy was fine with this arrangement; he did not want any money for these horrible experiences.

The men who visited Ciel every night were a grand spectrum of classes and appearences; there was the lowest, shabbily dressed one, who smelled as if he had not bathed in anything but the Thames for God knew how long, and there was also the high-class nobles, Druitt being among them.

Viscount Druitt came by a few times after Ciel's first night, each time as drunk as anything. However, no matter how much alcohol was in his system at the time, he would not say anything more about the murder cases than he had mentioned on their first meeting.

With each passing day, Ciel knew he was getting farther and farther away from his hope of escaping to Sebastian's manor. Each day was a nightmare as he lived in fear of what awaited him that night. Would it be a rough, violent bludger, or would it be Druitt again? The experiences were becoming increasingly traumatic, each one worst than the last. At one point, Ciel had had a gun held to his head until he undressed. That had left him locked in his room the entirety of the next day, not going down to eat or opening the door when Finny knocked to check on him.

On the subject of Finny, Ciel had seen less of him ever since his cold outburst on his first morning. He would still stop by his room occasionally to check on him and see how he was doing, and he would occasionally see him throughout the house (the places was not very big, after all). Still, even when he did see the blonde, very little conversation passed between them, and they ended up going their separate ways quickly. Ciel hated to admit it, but it made him a bit sad knowing his only hope of keeping his sanity in this place was slipping away from him.

Ciel sat on the floor, legs curled up to his chest. He'd taken to sitting in this position whenever he was in his room now, as if trying to keep himself from tearing apart. The sun was setting now, filling the room with blood reds and bruise purples. The customers would start arriving soon. Ciel hugged his knees closer, wishing once again for a way out. He'd tried to get a job as a paperboy as a means of escape, but Hammond did not trust him quite enough yet to let him out on his own. A knock at the door and Ciel's heart seemed to freeze for a few moments.

"Ciel? You in there?" came the familiar voice of Finny.

"Yeah," Ciel said, standing up and attempting to hide his anxiety the best he could.

"Everyone's here already. The customers will be 'ere soon."

"Yeah," was his curt reply.

A pause from the other side of the door. "Abberline came again today," Finny tried again, "I think 'e knows something's up 'ere. He didn't say much, though, jus' asked how the Master was doing."

Ciel nodded slowly, even though he knew Finny could not see him. Silence once again. He heard Finny draw in the breath to say something a few times, but he never actually spoke. Eventually, the boy's footsteps could be heard receding down the hallway.

Ciel returned to his place on the floor, eyeing the bed with newfound fear. Another night, another nightmare. How was he ever going to face Sebastian when he got out of here, with all the horrible things he'd done in this room? That is to say if he even managed to get out of here.

About an hour later, Ciel's subject of horror arrived. Tonight it was Druitt again. This time he seemed a tad less drunk, though his breath still smelled of liquor. Ciel stood up, resigning himself once again. Only this time, Druitt did not immidietly go after him like he usually did. Instead, he stayed where he was, watching the boy with crazed eyes. Ciel took half a step back, not sure what this was about but wary all the same.

Ciel had barely moved when Druitt suddenly ran at him, grabbing his shoulder and pressing him against the wall. Ciel coughed as his breath left him from the force of the blow. Druitt bent down and kissed him roughly. Ciel pressed himself into the wall, surprised; apparently, the Viscount was no more sober than usual.

Druitt pulled away and dragged the boy over to the bed. He pulled off Ciel's shirt and kissed him again. "Good thing-I'm buyin' ya tomorra," he slurred, "won' hafta sneak down 'ere so much…"

**Aah, short chapter! With a cliffhanger! :O What could possibly happen next?! I guess you'll just have to be back here on December 11 to find out! See you all in a week :D**


	12. Chapter 11

**Happy Friday! It's a short chapter again this week, but this time I think you will all thoroughly enjoy it!**

**I've been bursting at the gills to geek out about something: Bakuman is getting an anime next year! Woohoo!!! It wasn't unexpected at all (I mean, new manga by Ohba and Obata!) but it's great that the show is finally in the works. AND Kuroshitsuji season (series...?) 2 is starting next month! Kyaa! You know you're super excited for it. You know you are!**

**Hmm... notes on this chapter? Oh, I think I forgot to mention before that Hammond was actually a real person involved in the Cleveland Street scandal. Yup, yup, I did my research. Cookies?**

**I'm actually at a loss of what to say this week. I guess that *hideously* long AN last week took all my talkative energy away. Ah ha, less time you have to waste reading this, I guess.**

**Speaking of which, do all these ANs irk or otherwise irritate and distract you? Would you like to see less of them? Let me know in a review or something if you have something to say :D**

**Eh, I'm out of ideas. And I want to go see The Princess and the Frog now. ENJOY!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel had never felt this sick in his entire life.

He lay on the floor of the room, balled up and staring at a mothball in the corner. His world was spinning, faster and faster out of control. Nothing seemed real anymore, nothing seemed worth it anymore. He was being taken away by Druitt in a few hours, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The boy shut his eyes tight and willed himself not to cry. He had sank to the lowest level he could, true, and he had no hope of getting back out again, true, but he would _not_ cry. No matter the circumstances, Ciel Phantomhive would not bloody shed a tear.

He heard the distant sound of the front door opening and closing, Hammond's businesslike greeting and the squeak of his office door opening and closing to discuss the final arrangements. Ciel registered these sounds, but did not grasp them. All he could focus on was that mothball, the only thing that wasn't spinning in this sickening room. In a few minutes, he'd be out of this stinking brothel, but he would be entering a much worse situation once he stepped out of those doors.

Ciel hugged his knees tighter. He suddenly wished he had not pushed Finny away, that he had become friends with him. It felt necessary now for him; he wanted to talk to somebody, talk about something that would get his mind off of the terrifying nights that lay ahead, the twisted servitude he was beginning as of today.

The office door opened once again and footsteps could be heard in the entrance hall. A single pair of feet made their way up the stairs, took measured steps to the door to Ciel's room.

The boy was hyperventilating now. His heart was racing, the beat pounding in his ears. This was too much to bear. His life was over, an animated corpse with no true life in it…

The door opened and Hammond stepped inside the room, stepping on the mothball in the process. He took one look at Ciel's sickly form curled up on the ground and shook his head. He bent down and grasped Ciel by the arm, dragging him up so he was standing. "Look alive," Hammond sneered, "I'm getting a lot of money for you. Look worth it, even if you aren't."

The two of them walked down the hallway and down the stairs. Ciel's knees gave out a few times, and he could barely see straight. He was burning; the air was too hot. The creaky stairs did nothing for his condition except worsen it at the sight of the height of the staircase. It took a good ten minutes to get from Ciel's room to the bottom of the staircase. Ciel's vision was blurry now; the world was still spinning.

Hammond let Ciel into the entrance hall, where a tall figure stood up from his seat and watched as they arrived. Hammond let go of him, and Ciel stumbled into a small table at the side of the room, catching himself before he fell. The two men exchanged last-minute information about the transaction. Ciel definitely knew the voice of his buyer, no doubt about it. He focused on breathing, it was the only thing he could control now. Hammond pushed Ciel over to his new owner, saying, "Good luck, Your Grace. Dunno why you'd want him though; he's not worth all that money."

"It wasn't much," the man said.

Ciel caught his breath. _Your Grace…?_ That wasn't how you referred to a Viscount. Even Ciel knew that. Ciel looked up at the man's face, which was starting to clear up now that he was closer. The man looked down at him, and the boy saw inky black hair, smoldering red eyes. Ciel's mouth dropped open when he realized what was happening.

He breathed the name, finally able to say it not out of fear, but of relief. "Sebastia—" But he never finished, for at that moment the sickness of that morning got the better of him, and he vomited all over Duke Michaelis's tailcoat.

**YAY Sebas-chan's back! And I fixed his name ^_^ I'm off to see Princess Tiana and her amphibian prince now. Next chapter on December 18!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Happy holidays, everyone! Hope this week has treated you well. I only wish it had been a little kinder to me; I've been nursing a bad cold while studying for exams. Be careful to wash your hands and keep clean, especially now that it's gotten colder and people are getting sick- this year's cold is not fun -_- but exams are over now, so I have that wonderful WINTER BREAK we students covet so much ^_^ I've got to get back on this story and finish it. Procrastination only gets one so far, I guess. But don't worry! The Undertaker's Apprentice is not going to be put on hiatus or discontinued at any cost! I fully intend to tell this story to its end, because it's just too good of a plot to pass up!**

**I'm finally getting back to the longer chapters! So no more 600-word chapters at least for a few more weeks :P Read on to this new chapter!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

"…Ciel? Are you awake?"

Ciel's eyelids fluttered open to see Merlyn at his bedside, adjusting her glasses in a nervous habit. Ciel quickly tried to sit up to greet her, but slumped back into the huge pillows when his headache caught up with him, clutching his head and shielding his eyes. "Oww…"

Merlyn went right to work providing a cold rag for Ciel to put on his forehead. Once Ciel had taken it, she set about preparing a cup of tea with a large amount of lemon squeezed into it.

Once the initial pain had subsided, Ciel asked Merlyn where he was. "You're at the duke's manor, of course," she said, "He brought you here yesterday. You're awfully sick, though—some kind of flu, I'm guessing. Nothing we can't fix."

Ciel leaned back into the mass of pillows and looked around. The room was huge, much bigger than the Undertaker's entire shop. It was furnished with a sitting area, a wardrobe, the bed, and a few small tables displaying flowers and small sculptures. Merlyn handed him the tea.

Ciel took one sip of the tea and spat it out, scrunching up his face. "What's in this?!"

"Three wedges of lemon," Merlyn replied, adjusting her glasses again, "It helps a headache." She took the cup from the boy and put it back on the tray. "It looks like you're doing much better now," she said, "I'll be going now—the duke said he wanted to talk to you when you woke up." She took the tray and made her way to the door, losing her balance and spilling the cup of tea across the tray. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" she fretted, quickly regaining her balance and hurrying out the door before the tea spilled off the tray.

Ciel drifted in and out of sleep for the next few minutes. This was the most comfortable he had ever been; a soft feather bed and clean sheets were a new and welcome luxury to him. He was pulled out of this sleepy spell by the door opening and Sebastian entering the room.

The duke pulled up a chair and took a seat beside the boy's bed. Ciel sat up and started to say something, but stopped. He had no idea where to begin. There was so much he needed to tell Sebastian, so much he needed to know from him, but he had no clue how to ask it. Sebastian just watched him, that faint amusement still playing in his eyes.

Ciel frowned and looked away. "Why're ya laughing at me? Nothin's funny."

"I'm not laughing," Sebastian said, "I'm merely curious to hear how you got into that predicament."

Ciel's eyes darted back to the duke, sitting a little straighter. Sebastian shrugged. "Don't get the wrong idea, boy. It was quite the problem getting you out of there."

"How'd ya know where I was?"

"I have my sources," was all Ciel got as a reply, "Don't underestimate my network."

Ciel managed a sarcastic grin. "You've got 'sources' in places like _that?!_ Just who _are_ ya?!"

"Not someone you want to get on the bad side of."

Ciel couldn't help but cringe a bit at this statement. He knew Sebastian was dangerous, but he had never actually heard him acknowledge it so directly.

The duke continued. "I'll be expecting an apology regarding my tailcoat."

Ciel looked away and hoped in vain that Sebastian would not notice his embarrassment. "Why should I apologize?" he said, "It's yer own fault fer wearin' that thing ta a place like that."

Sebastian smiled a little too cheerfully. "I needed to show I was a duke somehow."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "How'd ya beat Druitt ta me?" He felt awful for asking this question, but he needed to know the answer. For all he knew, if Sebastian had been any later, he would have missed him and Ciel would have ended up with Druitt.

"Again, I have sources that you do not need to know about," the duke said, "And I also paid much more for you than the Viscount did. Speaking of which…" he got up from his seat and leaned over Ciel, locking eyes with him. Ciel scooted back into the pillows a little. "You owe me big time, kid. Do you have any idea how much I had to give that man so he would let you go?"

Ciel paused, then decided to take a lucky guess. "Four hundred pounds."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, then laughed. "Four hundred pounds?! Really? That's about as much as the Viscount was willing to spend on you! Hammond wouldn't hand you over to me until I gave him one thousand pounds! That man really knows how to work things to his advantage." He leaned forward until his face was inches from Ciel's. Ciel prayed he couldn't see the blush he felt creeping up his neck and cheeks. "So now you'll work for me until you can pay off at least part of that debt. Got it?"

Ciel nodded. Everything was working out all right, after all. "Wh-what'm I goin' ta be doin'?"

Sebastian stood up again and took his seat. "You will help out around the manor, assisting the other servants when they need it. though I guess you could focus your attention on cleaning out the stables. Those things have gotten rather messy lately."

Ciel opened his mouth, but closed it again. He so wished he could express how thankful he was for this, but a greater part of him stopped him. He'd never shown much emotion toward Sebastian; why start now?

Ciel leaned back into the pillows again and looked out the window. The grounds of this manor really were beautiful. And the pillows were so comfortable… He felt himself drifting off to sleep again.

"…boy? Ciel?"

Ciel's eyes snapped open and he looked over at Sebastian, suddenly very embarrassed. "Say what?"

"Don't think you can doze off on me like that," the duke said, "I expect to be paid attention to when I speak."

Ciel sat up again and rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the last speck of sleep out of them. "What was it ya wanted ta talk ta me about?"

"What else do you think?" Sebastian leaned forward in his seat. "What did you find out?"

Ciel's heart felt like it had just dropped out of his chest and into his stomach. So Sebastian really didn't care about what he'd just gone through. All he cared about was finding information about the murderers. Ciel lowered his head and grabbed the blankets tighter. "…find out what?" he asked, avoiding the question in hopes of hearing something different.

"About the murder cases! You were in contact with the Viscount—you should have discovered something."

"Yeah I was in contact with 'im all right," Ciel muttered under his breath, cringing. This was it, finally the truth was out. Sebastian really didn't care about him.

"So what did you find out?"

Ciel looked up at the duke though a curtain of black hair. "Ya really not goin' ta care 'bout what jus' 'appened?" he said, voice starting out soft but growing louder, "Ya really goin' ta ignore what 'appened ta me this past two weeks? Coves've done things ta me ya'd never e'en dare _think_ about! I almost got sold ta one of 'em! Got so worked up I puked all o'er ya! An' ya goin' ta jus' ignore all that?!" He was kneeling on the bed now, still too weak to stand, and giving Sebastian such an evil glare he knew he rivaled the duke's own frightening expressions. "Are ya?!"

Sebastian leaned back in his chair. "The clothes were easily washed," he said, nonchalant as ever, "As for the rest of that, there's not much to be done about it. I bought you out of there, didn't I? I wouldn't accuse me of doing nothing if I were you."

Ciel opened and closed his mouth, trying to say something snarky but coming up with nothing. As much as he hated to admit it, Sebastian had saved his life back there. He sat back down on the bed and looked away, ashamed. The two sat in silence for a few moments, letting what Sebastian had just said sink in.

"You'll begin work as soon as you are feeling well enough," the Duke broke the silence, standing up from his seat and walking over to the door.

Ciel suddenly had the urge to grab onto his sleeve and keep him at his side. He wanted to cry and throw a fit, to beg him to stay and not be so cold toward him. Why did he have to be so close, but always stay just out of reach where Ciel could never get closer to him? It was hell being near him, but it was worse being away. He fought back the desire to cry out as Sebastian reached the door.

The Duke placed a gloved hand on the doorknob. He glanced back at the boy in his guest bed, a twisted, pained expression on the child's face. He looked back at the door. "I can't have you wandering about the mansion in those grubby rags I found you in," he said before exiting, "I'll call a tailor for you tomorrow."

***sniff* maybe I can take Merlyn's advice and try that lemon thing for my cold. Meh, I'll get over this soon. Next chapter on December 25, Christmas Day! Add to your holiday festivities with an all-new chapter of The Undertaker's Apprentice! Happy holidays :)**


	14. Chapter 13

**Merry Christmas to you all! I hope by the time you read this your hearts are filled with holiday cheer and you are having a great day :) And if you don't celebrate Christmas, I still hope you are having a magnificent holiday season ^_^**

**Phew, finally the chapters are getting back to a good length! This one has the lovely Nina Hopkins making an appearance, if you didn't already figure that out :D It was very fun to write lol. And I'm out of ideas for this week, only that I wish you all a happy holiday and a great new year!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

This had to be the best day of Ciel's life.

Nina Hopkins, a popular seamstress among the nobles of London, had been summoned to the mansion that morning. Ciel rolled out of bed as soon as the sun touched his covers. He quickly went about trying to make himself look as presentable as possible when the seamstress arrived, so as not to embarrass Sebastian about taking in some poor, dirty street rat.

Ciel looked through the guest room's wardrobe, trying to find something decent to wear. However, he only found a pair of pants and a shirt that looked like they belonged to someone twice his size. Wrestling with the huge clothes, he dared a glance in the mirror after he had gotten dressed. The clothes were far too big for him, but they would have to do. The shirt came to a stop around his knees, and the pants pooled around his ankles and would have fallen right off him if Ciel had not secured them with a belt. Rolling the pants up so he could walk, Ciel exited the guest room in search of breakfast.

In the time Ciel had been imprisoned by Hammond, he had almost forgotten jut how large the mansion was. It was even more impressive than he remembered. The boy wandered down the long corridors, admiring the decorations and simply enjoying the freedom to wander the place as he liked. He ventured down the grand staircase to the main lobby where he ran into Merlyn.

"Ah! C-Ciel!" she fretted, adjusting her glasses. She looked like a cat that had one too many things grabbing her attention at once. "You're up! Master wishes to talk to you in the garden before Miss Hopkins arrives in about an hour. I'll find you some better clothes in the meantime," she added, glancing at the boy's ill-fitting attire. Quickly, she hurried up the staircase and disappeared around a corner. Ciel almost felt sorry for her; she was the only maid in this entire mansion, as far as he could tell.

He continued on his way to find the garden Merlyn had mentioned. Having been to this estate numerous times, he knew his way around fairly well. Going through the pantry, he pushed open the door leading outside. He stepped out onto a stone patio, where breakfast had been laid out on a table. Sebastian was sitting at the table looking at Ciel expectantly. "Up rather late," he jeered.

"Bugger off," Ciel spat, plunking himself down in a chair and helping himself to a pasty.

Sebastian shook his head. "We can't have you cursing like a lowlife criminal, Ciel," he said, voice lethargic, "Not with Nina Hopkins here. You surely do not know this, but she is one of the biggest gossips I know. Besides the Undertaker, that is."

Ciel swallowed a bite of pasty before speaking. Maybe since he was going to start brushing up his speech, he could start with the manners, too. "And wha' ya think she's got ta say 'bout me?"

Sebastian laughed. Ciel cringed; it wasn't a good-hearted laugh, but rather a cold and sarcastic one. Though that hardly surprised the boy, considering the kind of person the duke was. "A previously unknown boy is plucked off the streets and starts living under Duke Michaelis's roof? I would think you would be intelligent enough to realize the scale of gossip and rumors that would ensue."

Ciel shrugged. "Not my problem. _I'm_ not a member o' high society."

Sebastian looked him straight in the eyes. "Not yet, anyway," he said with a grin that made Ciel's blood temperature drop a few degrees.

Ciel decided not to question the duke's plans further and helped himself to a scone. All would be revealed in good time, and now was not the time he wanted to think about what Sebastian had in store for him.

Sebastian did not let the conversation die, however. "Starting tomorrow night, we begin researching the case again. You've spent enough time freeloading off me."

Ciel almost choked on his scone. "Tomorrow?!" he coughed, "Why tomorrow?!"

"Because," Sebastian said, "thanks to your little detour, I've got a lead. We will be attending a social event celebrating the beginning of the season tomorrow night. It's the perfect time to weasel out new information."

Ciel didn't like the sound of this. "Social event? Like _dancing?_" he asked, slowly forming his words, "No. Bloody. Way."

"Oh yes bloody way," Sebastian mocked, "You are helping me tomorrow at this event with getting more information about this. It's especially crucial because a number of suspects are going to be in attendance, and I fully intend to investigate them while I am there."

"But what'm I goin' to do there?"

Sebastian's eyes lit up. The boy knew this couldn't be good. "Keep me from being swarmed by the good ladies of London, of course."

"What the bloody hell are you talkin' about?"

The duke leisurely rested his chin in his hand. "If I have my hands full introducing my niece visiting from the countryside to the other nobles, when will I have the time to dance with all the young ladies and become sidetracked from the case?"

"Makes too much sense," Ciel grouched. Then he caught himself. "Wait a second… yer _niece?!_"

* * *

Nina Hopkins arrived exactly at ten o'clock and not a moment later. Her punctuality would normally attribute someone who was well-presented. However, her attire would say otherwise.

"Miss Hopkins, must you really be wearing that out in public?" the duke said after greetings had been exchanged.

"Of course! This is the next big thing for women's clothing!" Nina declared. The woman was wearing a skirt that came to a bit above the knee with a long coat and stockings. A pair of glasses balanced on her nose. "It is a statement for women's freedom to wear what they like!"

Sebastian sighed with impatience. "Freedom to wear what you like and disturbing the piece with your apparel are completely different things," he said, his voice marvelously polite for what he was saying.

Nina disregarded the duke's admonishments and began sizing up the situation. She pulled a measuring tape out of her bag and turned to Ciel. "This him? Oh, he'll be so much fun to dress up!" she squealed, setting to work taking the boy's measurements.

Ciel pulled his arm away and took a step back, eyeing Nina warily. "What're you going to do?" he said, carefully forming his words. What Sebastian had said earlier about Nina's gossiping habits had given him some motivation to shape up.

Sebastian slid up next to Nina and examined Ciel with a critical eye. He raised an eyebrow and tapped his chin pensively. "Hmm… there are a good number of things she could do, Ciel," he said, sounding serious but Ciel saw the mirth dancing in his evil eyes.

The boy looked away before the blush creeping up his neck could be too visible. "You said… I'd have to wear a _dress?_" He couldn't believe this; he was finally getting the opportunity to be with Sebastian and help him with the case, and he had to do it wearing a hoop skirt and a corset.

Wait, a _corset?!_

Nina descended on Ciel again, this time catching him when he tried to shy away from her measuring tapes. "Oh my, this will be such fun! You are a very beautiful child, a diamond in the rough! So many options, it's a pity it's only one outfit…!" She continued tittering to herself as she measured and poked and prodded, taking notes and riffling through the fabrics she brought with her.

Ciel cast a look over at Sebastian. Did he really have to dress up as a girl? This didn't seem necessary, no matter how Ciel looked at it. Sebastian was obviously only making fun of him. Sure enough, the duke was looking on with thinly veiled amusement at Ciel's plight. "Awfully convenient plan for you," the boy said stiffly.

"Awfully convenient for you to look so perfect for the role," the duke returned effortlessly. He didn't even bat an eye.

"Tch." This was humiliating. But then again, what did he have left to lose? He'd already given up any pride he had left at that horrible place on Cleveland Street, anyway.

Nina finished her measurements and decisions. "Alright, I've got it! Pity, there are so many other things I would love to sew for you, my dear boy!" she chirped, bending down and pinching his cheek, "You're so beautiful, anything I make would be perfect for you! Of course, I am modest about my talents," she added, standing back up and pushing her glasses up her nose with a smile.

Sebastian came back over to the two of them. "Of course you are, Miss Hopkins," he said, waving his hand. Merlyn entered the room through the already open door, carrying a small pouch. Sebastian took it and handed it to Nina. "A deposit for the dress, which I will expect tomorrow," he said. Then in a lower voice, he added, "You may find the contents of this pouch add up to more than you charged. I will trust you to not speak a word of today?"

Nina took the pouch and opened it, looking through it quickly. Closing it, she said, "Duke Michaelis, I will not breathe a word! A true feminist defends her honor, along with her clients'!"

Sebastian nodded. "Thank you, Miss Hopkins. Merlyn will show you to the door."

Merlyn lead Nina out to her carriage, and Sebastian exited the room without a word to Ciel. The boy was left standing there, thoughts awhirl with what had happened in the past twenty-four hours. But one thought was floating just a fraction higher than the others: he had not seen what was in that pouch. He assumed it was money, naturally, but they had never said so. It had been a small pouch, paid to a woman who went around designing dresses and other clothes for high class children, never thought of and rarely mentioned or remembered when a noble was questioned about an alibi.

Ciel heart sickened as the pieces began to fall into place for him, and he did not like what they were showing him.

**Aaand the plot thickens! Now that Ciel suspects Sebastian, what will he do?! Come back on January 1st, New Year's Day, for more! Start your year off with a new chapter (after celebrating with your friends and family, of course lol)!**


	15. Chapter 14

**HAPPY 2010 EVERYONE! Wow, the decade is actually over... strange thought. But now it's a new decade, a blank canvas to paint with memories and trends! I hope everyone had a great year, and, even better, a great decade :D Anyone making new year's resolutions? Make sure you live up to them lol (though I'm not one to talk... ^_^;)**

**Okay, enough with the cliche preaching. This chapter was probably my favorite one to write up until now - it's also the longest one so far. Coincidence? I think not. There are even some more cameos! Yay! What a wonderful way to begin the new year :)**

**You also might have noticed that I changed the categories for this story - switched out Horror for Drama. It seems to fit better; I don't think this story is horrific and scary enough to be called "Horror" lol. So Drama it is.**

**So here we are, chapter 14!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

One thing Ciel knew he would take away from this night was that corsets hurt.

The carriage bumped and clattered down the cobblestone streets of nighttime London. Despite the crowded streets, Bard—who doubled as the mansion's cook as well as the chauffeur—maneuvered around all the hubbub beautifully. Ciel swayed back and forth in his seat as the coach jostled against the uneven street. He felt sick, but motion sickness was not the only source of his discomfort. Sebastian was stealing what he thought were discreet glances over at him from the opposite seat.

Ciel sat up straighter and looked down his nose at him. "What are _you_ looking at?"

Sebastian chuckled and smirked. "You seem to have gotten over that horrid accent quite quickly, if I do say so, _young lady._"

He was changing the subject. Or rather, he was indirectly mocking him. The boy busied himself by looking out the window in hopes of hiding his obvious embarrassment. "Not like this was my choice, _uncle._"

The duke relaxed into his seat and sighed leisurely. "Indeed, it was not. But you are going to go along with the plan."

They were not quite at the Viscount's mansion; there was still time for a little rebellion. "And if I don't?"

Sebastian shot him such a cold look that Ciel was sure time had stopped for a moment. He pursed his lips and bit his tongue; joking like that with the duke was obviously not a good idea.

"You will go along with the plan we have set up," he said evenly, "I wouldn't think solely cleaning out the muck from the stables is enough to cover the money you owe me."

Ciel gulped, but tried his best to maintain an aloof appearance. He rested his elbow on the edge of the seat and held his chin on his hand. "I might as well," he said. A minute passed. Ciel's eyes darted over at the duke to see that he was still looking at him. "You never answered to why you were looking at me," Ciel said, sitting up straight again; the corset he was wearing was only tolerable if he kept his posture perfect.

Sebastian grinned. "I should tell Miss Hopkins to sew some more outfits for you. Blue suits you."

The back of Ciel's neck felt hot, and the blush was quickly spreading to his face. He tilted the brim of the small hat he was wearing over his face to hide it. Sebastian laughed and Ciel blushed harder. This entire plan was just an opportunity for the duke to make fun of and humiliate him. Even the servants had gotten a laugh out of it; even if she denied it, Merlyn had thoroughly enjoyed dolling him up and getting him ready.

This was ridiculous. His introduction into high society was going to be him in a dark blue ball gown and a long black wig tied into twin ponytails. Awful. At least he was going to speak like he belonged there, even if his vocabulary was not quite up to par with the rest of the nobility. But that was alright—it was only this once, then he was good to go.

Right?

But his lacking vocabulary and speech patterns were among the least of Ciel's worries. The mention of Nina Hopkins had stirred up unwelcome thoughts in his mind; Sebastian was now his prime suspect. He couldn't afford to be this close to him, to be talking to him like this. He could be the killer!

The carrige promptly arrived at the Viscount's mansion and followed the stream of horses and coaches to the front entrance, where they exited their carrige and joined the other lords and ladies as they made their way into the huge mansion.

Sebastian shook hands and exchanged greetings with most of the people the two of them met, talking with them as if they were old friends. Ciel was introduced to so many people he couldn't keep them straight and the words melted together into names Ciel was certain weren't correct. "You're pretty popular," Ciel muttered to Sebastian when they had passed through the crowd in the greeting hall.

"Could it be that you are jealous?" the duke responded, smirking.

Ciel shook his head vigorously, grabbing his hat to keep it balanced on his head. "Jealous? Not a chance. Too many names for me to keep up with."

"That was not what I was referring to," Sebastian said under his breath.

"Did you say something?"

Sebastian glanced down at Ciel and gave a sickly sweet smile. "Nothing's the matter, my dear little niece."

The hairs on the back of Ciel's neck stood on end in irritation.

"Duke Michaelis! Wonderful to see you here!" someone called a greeting from behind Ciel. The man came out of the crowd and shook Sebastian's hand with a smile.

Ciel was sure his stomach had just dropped through the floor. It was Druitt. He concentrated on keeping his breathing and balance steady. Druitt could not, under any circumstances, discover Ciel's true identity!

Sebastian returned the greeting and the smile. "Viscount! It's good to see you after such a long time."

"Long time?! It's been a month!" Druitt laughed. He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You're so formal, Duke. Lighten up! It's the beginning of the season!" His light blue eyes strayed over to Ciel, where they lit up with interest. Ciel felt sick. "And who is this?"

Sebastian transitioned into the introduction flawlessly. "This is my niece, Mary Hargreaves, my sister's daughter," he said, giving the name he had decided on before the event, "she is visiting from the countryside." Ciel did not even know if Sebastian really had a sister; he guessed he did not.

Druitt smiled at Ciel and took his hand, kissing it like the gentleman the boy knew he was not. "I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Hargreaves. I'd be honored to have a dance later this evening?"

_In your dreams_, Ciel thought viciously. But he curtsied the way Merlyn had taught him and said, "I would be happy to, if my uncle would allow me." He looked over at Sebastian, pleading him to say no and save them both a great danger.

But the duke was not so careful. "I'll allow it. but you must be wary—she is not so accustomed to the dances of London," he added, looking over at Ciel so he immediately knew he was just toying with him.

"I will look forward to it," Druitt said with another flashy smile. Ciel forced a pleasant smile he hoped was enough to mask the fact he wanted to kill him. Druitt stood up straight again and turned back to Sebastian. "I don't believe I've heard of your sister, Duke."

Ciel's gut tensed up. They were treading on thin ice here. "My sister, Susan Hargreaves, lives in the countryside a few days journey from London. She married the owner of a mining business. Though she is rather ill," he added, dropping his voice, "the city air is not good for her."

Druitt nodded. "I understand fully, Duke. Don't worry about me spreading these personal histories."

The two noblemen continued to talk after that precarious exchange, and Ciel excused himself from them. He made his way over to the table laid with small hors d'evores and drinks. He examined the food with a hungry eye; he had definetly developed a taste for good food over the few days he had been at Sebastian's mansion. And this food looked like it would not disappoint him; most of it was unfamiliar, but that did not take away from how appetizing it looked.

Ciel reached out and plucked a tiny croissant from the table and popped it in his mouth. He chewed the fluffy treat and swallowed it, savoring the light taste. It was so good! He reached for another when a hand was gently placed on his shoulder. "Eating appetizers right off the serving plate is very unladylike," the person said.

Ciel turned around to see a handsome young man with snow white hair and grey eyes looking back at him. His hair was short and thick, and cascaded down a little past his shoulders in the back. He was dressed very nicely, with a white tailcoat and fashionable shoes. A ceremonial sword was at his side. Still, the youth in his face contrasting to his clothes gave him the look of one who wished he were older than he was.

Ciel's hand fell to his side and he curtsied clumsily, unsure of what to do. "My apologies, sir," he said, keeping his voice higher than usual.

"You do not need to apologize," the man said, laughing. His laugh was light, like the tinkering of bells on a cold morning, "The food is very good—I wouldn't hold it against anyone to enjoy it. Though the custard choux leaves a lot to be desired, I must say," he added with a wink.

Ciel laughed. He almost bowed, but caught himself and nearly fell over correcting it into a curtsy. "I am Mary Hargreaves, visiting my uncle from the countryside."

The young man bowed. "Earl Charles Grey," he returned, "Though I don't think I would mind you just calling me Charles, Mary."

Ciel smiled. This was good; people really believed in his disguise. "Are you from London, Charles?"

"Am I!" he exclaimed, rocking back and forth on his feet, "I work for Queen Victoria. Kind of her personal messenger, you could say."

The boy's eyes widened. This man was a personal assistant to the queen?! But he looked so young! How could he get that position? "Is that sword solely for decoration?" he asked stupidly, looking for a way to continue the conversation.

Charles drew it from its sheath and held it up for Ciel to see. "Not only for decoration," he said lightly, "I occasionally find a use for it."

He suddenly got the feeling that he was intruding on rocky territory here. "...like what?"

Charles shrugged, sliding the blade back into its sheath. "The job of a messenger is a dangerous one, Mary. Sometimes interceptors must be dealt with." There was a short, solemn pause. Ciel was beginning to become wary around this man; he talked of things like death and violence so easily and simply!

Charles continued speaking like nothing had happened. He offered his hand and bowed, smiling widely. "But that is not important at the moment. What _is_ important is my interest in dancing with you. Care to join me?"

Ciel hesitated. Sebastian had gone over some basic steps with him before the ball as part of his How To Become A Lady In Twelve Hours, but he was not sure how much he could do with those steps. They seemed awfully basic compared to the footwork that was being performed on the dance floor now.

Charles raised his eyebrows, waiting. "Mary?"

Ciel blinked. If he did something truly embarrassing, Sebastian would most likely swoop in and cover his tracks. So he took Charles's gloved hand and smiled at him. "I'd love to dance with you," he said. Charles stood up, smiling even wider, and led him out onto the dance floor to join the waltz.

They ventured out to the edge of the group of swirling dancers. Charles took Ciel's hand in his and placed a hand at his waist. Ciel's gut flip-flopped, but he did nothing to suggest he was uncomfortable. He had to pass himself off as a girl, or everything would come falling apart. And then his own embarrassment would be the least of his worries, compared to the wrath he would conjure from Sebastian.

Charles guided him around in a slow circle, stepping in a deliberate pattern of _one_, two, three, _one_, two, three. This was simple enough, just stepping in a circle. He could do this. Just had to be wary of avoiding Charles's feet.

Charles lifted his arm and spun Ciel around, his skirt swirling around him beautifully before settling again as he ended the turn. "You dance very well," Charles complimented him.

"You're obviously lots better than me," Ciel said, "I don't have any practice, really."

Charles laughed that happy laugh again. "Well, you are awfully good for a natural then."

Ciel smiled and dared a laugh, too. Even if he was having difficulty walking in these shoes and his ribs were sore from the corset, this was not as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Charles seemed like a respectable enough person, even if a bit quietly sadistic. The music continued on for a few minutes, and the two of them danced along without further conversation, allowing Ciel to concentrate on not tripping himself up.

The piece ended eventually and everyone politely applauded the orchestra at the front of the ballroom. Ciel lifted his hands to clap, but Charles clamped his grip down on his wrist. Ciel, confused, tried to pull away again, but the man did not let go. Instead, he pulled him a bit closer and bent down, whispering in his ear: "So when were you planning on telling me who you really are, boy?"

Ciel froze. The game was up. "I am Mary Hargreaves," he hissed back, "visiting my uncle from the countryside."

Charles tightened his grasp. "Oh really? Where exactly are you from? Who is this uncle?"

Ciel racked his brain from top to bottom, trying his hardest to think of something. He knew Charles had already cornered him and was just waiting for the chance to expose him; he just needed to buy time before Sebastian noticed something was wrong. Because he would come, wouldn't he? "Kent," he spluttered, saying the first name he could think of; Sebastian had mentioned the name when he had been greeting people in the foyer.

Charles raised an eyebrow and laughed. But this time, it was not the happy sound Ciel had grown accustomed to; it was dark, distrustful. "Kent, my arse. I'll bet my best dogs you've never set foot in Kent." He leaned in closer again. "Who is your uncle, then?" Ciel's eyes darted around, searching through the crowd for Sebastian. People were beginning to notice that something was amiss; whispers of "standing so close!" and "scandalous!" floated around the boy's ears.

But he was not going to tell Charles who he was here with. Sebastian was a duke, after all; even a piece of street trash like him knew that a duke was very high in the nobility. If something like this ever had Sebastian Michaelis's name branded on it, Ciel wouldn't even dare think about the consequences. "My uncle is ill at home," he lied badly.

"You are not amusing me."

"And you are not amusing me."

"You have no right to speak to me that way."

"Why're you so interested?"

"If a scandal such as this happens, especially on the first night of the season, it is my duty to discover who was behind it and deal with it."

"It was only me."

"You could not have gotten in alone."

"How're ya so sure?"

Charles's eyes were stony with rage. Ciel could feel the anger and frustration radiating off him in waves. God damn it all, where was Sebastian?!

The young man looked around, suddenly aware of the gossip surrounding them now. He dragged Ciel off the dance floor and close to the wall by a window drapery where they could talk privately. He was still holding his wrist. "You are going to tell me who was behind this humiliation."

"And if I don't?" Ciel was nearing the end of his rope. His etiquette and poise were falling away like pieces of a dried onion.

Charles rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You are going to tell me your name and the name of your conspirator. Now."

Ciel opened his mouth to say something smart. "The utmost of apologies for the interruption," a dark figure swept in, bowing, "but if you would be so gracious as to allow me to dance with this beautiful young lady?" The man looked up, and his glittering dark red eyes flashed at Ciel.

Charles dropped his hand from his sword and released Ciel. He looked away, disgusted. "I look forward to speaking with you again, Miss Hargreaves," he said icily, "you are quite the one to hold a stimulating conversation."

Ciel took Sebastian's hand and the duke straightened, leading him away. The entire exchange happened in moments, but not fast enough for Ciel to miss the deadly glare that passed between the dark duke and the pristine white messenger.

**Intrigue, crossdressing, and mystery, oh my! Yes, I made Ciel wear a dark blue dress instead of the infamous pink one. I thought I'd switch it up a bit - plus, it matches his eyes ^_^ By the way, kudos and a smoothie to anyone who can guess what manga I got Ciel's alias from. A hint: It's very similar to Kuroshitsuji. And I loved having Charles in this chapter - he's so cool! *fangirls* Ahem, so the next chapter will be out on January 8. Be sure to read it - it's a good one ;)**


	16. Chapter 15

**Hiiii!!!!! Ah, I'm sorry about the later update than usual - had to figure out the Document Manager again and it was being evil :K But I got it fixed, as you can see, so it's all good haha!**

**Soo can I say I had a fantastic week? Just finished Dante's Inferno and it's SO GOOD. Like, it's totally crazy, but it's really interesting. Now on to the Purgatorio! So I'm a lit nerd - and I enjoy it ^_^**

**Congrats to anyone who got the alias! It was from God Child, which is an amazing manga by Kaori Yuki. I don't own it :(**

**I was asked about how Charles knew Ciel was a guy in the last chapter. I don't think i added this, but it's because he's one of the Queen's messengers, and he's got to be really observant to keep the job and deliver the Queen's messages safely and stuff. So he didn't notice it when he was just talking to him, but when they started to dance he noticed because he was closer to him and because Ciel dropped his guard a little. So yeah, there's that to clear up some confusion.**

**This chapter is SOAWESOME. I think it will be worth the wait.... but I don't want to jump the gun. Read on!**

Sebastian led Ciel through the clumps and pairs of guests, hurrying in his pace. Ciel found himself nearly running to keep up with him. Something was not right. "What's the matter?"

Sebastian did not answer him, and simply kept pulling him along. Ciel looked past him and tried to see where they were going. Unfortunately, being eleven and shorter than the men and women in attendance did little for him.

Suddenly, Sebastian whirled around and caught Ciel in his arms before he ran into him. Ciel's breath caught; the duke was holding him. He'd never been this close to him, but while this was something he knew he had wanted for a long time now, it didn't feel right. Sebastian was supposed to be his prime suspect for the case, but damn him, he was just too dangerously perfect and beautiful to deny anything, even if it was his trust.

The orchestra was playing another tune, this time a stricter and more balanced sound. Sebastian spun Ciel around playfully, but continued pulling him to the other side of the ballroom. "Pity," he said, "I had hoped for something to dance with you to. Unfortunately, a minuet is far too complex for your current knowledge."

Sure enough, the guests were forming into lines and bowing in succession to the audience, then each other, than those to their left and right. It all seemed terribly confusing to Ciel, especially when they all began walking around each other in patterns the boy could barely follow. It was beautiful to watch, but it terrified him to think that Sebastian almost made him dance like that.

But dancing did not seem to be the first thing on the duke's mind. He was distracted, looking about this way and that on the lookout for something. Ciel's eyes widened in curiosity. "Looking for someone?"

Sebastian glanced down at Ciel, then ceased his searching. "It seems that you found him before I could."

"Are you talkin' about that Earl Grey?"

"Careful of your speech, boy," the duke said, keeping his voice low, "But yes, I was looking for him."

"Tell me why."

A knowing smile crept across Sebastian's face. "You know how to get information out of me now, don't you? Asking me will get you nowhere," he said, more to himself than to Ciel. "The Earl is the personal messanger of the queen. I, on the other hand, am not in the queen's good graces. Formally, anyhow."

Ciel listened intently; this was the first time he had ever learned anything about the duke. "Not in her good graces?"

Sebastian's eyes flashed. "Formally, we do not associate with one another much. But she has recently developed a keen interest in the string of murder cases that have come up around this poisoner—a close friend of hers was struck with the murder of her daughter, Paula Tyndall, a week ago."

Ciel's gut clenched. So the killings had continued while he had been shut away. He needed to figure out who was behind this before more innocent girls were found dead and mangled around London. "Tell me your row with Charles."

"My row," he said simply, "is simply the difference in our status with the queen. Our acquaintance goes no farther than that." Ciel saw straight through this poor fabrication; then again, had Sebastian only made it obviously false so he could allow Ciel to see though it without really stating anything? Charles and Sebastian were obviously rivals of some kind, whether for the queen's favor or for something else, the boy was not certain yet.

Sebastian suddenly grabbed Ciel's hand and took off again, leading him though the crowd of people watching the dance. They dodged skirts and chairs and walking canes until they broke free from the crowd and were standing on the dark terrace overlooking the gardens. The music was faint in the background, along with the hum of conversation from the ballroom.

Sebastian dropped his grip on Ciel's hand and strode over to the low stone wall enclosing the space. He spread his hands out on the stone at the far corner of the terrace and looked up at the starry evening sky. Ciel stayed where he was, unsure as to what this was about. The duke looked behind him and, seeing that Ciel had not moved, flicked his hand to tell him to come. The boy did as he was told. Sebastian leisurely looked out over the gardens again. "Ciel."

Ciel jumped. "…yes?"

The duke was still looking at the well kept hedges and flowerbeds of the estate. "You have been keeping something from me, haven't you?"

His heart was racing, and suddenly his gloves were too hot from his sweating palms. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

Sebastian's eyes were locked with his, inches away, within a second. Ciel forgot to breathe. "I saw it the moment you walked into my study the first day you visited me, boy. It's no use pretending you do not know what I am talking about."

Ciel tore his gaze away and looked at the floor. He said nothing. So Sebastian knew about how he felt, did he? He took a quick sniff of the air: no alcohol. The duke was sober. So did he mean what he was saying at this point?

He reached down and picked up a lock of long black hair, holding it up to his lips. He kissed it. Ciel felt goose bumps run down his arms. "You are infatuated with me, are you not?"

Ciel hesitated, then lifted his head to say that yes, he was, but Sebastian's mouth cut him off. Without warning, he was crushing his lips against Ciel's, deliberate and yet so passionate and hungry it made Ciel melt. Sebastian ran his arm around Ciel's waist and held him there as he continued to kiss him. Ciel kissed him back with all the want and desire he had been keeping sealed up since their first meeting. This was pure bliss. He wasn't thinking, only letting his body do the communicating for him. Sebastian's tongue nudged at Ciel's lips, and he obediently parted them. The man took the liberties of exploring his mouth, deepening the kiss, holding him closer.

Finally, after what Ciel felt was hours, they parted, the boy breathless. Had that really just happened? Sebastian held his chin and tilted it up so he was looking into the boy's deep blue eyes. "Blue is most certainly your color," he said before descending for another kiss.

The mood had changed considerably by the time Sebastian and Ciel returned from the terrace. The minuet had finished, but something was going on in its place that was much less plesant than a dance but much more interesting at the same time: a heated, animated argument had broken out between Druitt and a man with dark hair and a goatee. They both looked furious at the other, for whatever reason they were arguing about.

"How dare you set foot on this estate and insult the church so!" Druitt threatened the man in a rage. Sebastian ducked into the crowd and weaved his way though the throng to get a better glimpse of what was going on. Ciel followed him as closely as he could, fighting to push his dress though the dense group of people.

"I did not insult you, Viscount," the man said, "I stated the facts of science as they have been found to be true in recent discoveries."

"They are not facts, Mr. Woodley!" Druitt raged. He was too far-gone to be reasoned with, Ciel hoped that man knew. "Darwin fabricated evidence to challenge the church with his obscenities! They are false!"

"That is where you are wrong, if I may say so, Viscount," the man called Woodley said, "Darwin has proved through scientific fact that we have evolved—"

"Darwin has proved nothing! The only thing he has done is made a fool of himself by trying to go against the truths of the church!" Druitt stepped right up to Woodley, threatening him with his proximity and stance, "You have no right to lay claim to something that has already been so excellently explained by the church."

Woodley looked as if he now understood that this man was not one to be reasoned with, or argued with for that matter. He bowed. "My apologies, sir," he said, "I was out of line."

"Good to know you recognize your misstep!" Druitt backed off, but his voice was still vicious. "Now please leave my house. This is too disgraceful to ignore!"

Woodley tipped his hat and disappeared into the crowd without a word.

Sebastian pulled Ciel away towards the exit. "We have what we came for," he said, heading for the carriages to hail Bard for their journey home.

Ciel could not help but question the double meaning to his words.

**FINALLY! SebxCiel after like... 15 chapters XD Hope you all liked it! Write a review if you did :) I really like them and I read and love every one! Next chapter on January 15!**


	17. Chapter 16

**Hi!!! Wow, can I say that I am SO GRATEFUL for all you reviews thus far?! Over 90 reviews... never thought I'd get so many o_0 Haha! But seriously, thank you soo much, they mean the world to me ^_^**

**Aand I'm also uber happy because I finally got KH 2 (no, i don't own the company, the rights, yadda yadda yadda)!!! Soo excited to actually play it, even though i've watched all the cutscenes already XD**

**Ah, this story is catching up on me... better get cracking on it again. Gotta keep up these weekly updates for my lovely readers~! For now, I hope you like this new installment!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel slogged through the piles of hay in the stables, pushing it into stalls and trying to keep it neat. He finished distributing the hay and set to work scrubbing the water troughs. This was hard work, but that was good. Manual labor was the perfect thing for him right now; it got his mind off of what had happened at the ball. That kiss… had it been real? Yes, it had. He was sure of it.

But he was constantly being forced to doubt that; Sebastian had not said one word about it since then. He had not gone too near Ciel for the past three days, always keeping a distance just outside his space and far away enough for them to not have to associate.

This was horrible. It was worse than before, when all he could do was lust after Sebastian with little hope of him returning his feelings. Now that they had had that contact at the party, Ciel found himself only wanting more. It was greedy of him, selfish. But he didn't care; all he wanted was those lips on his once again.

He scoured the trough harder, finding a channel for all this frustration. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until his hands were sore from the rough cloth, but it still did not satisfy him. Damn that duke, why did he have to come into his life like this and screw everything up?! Without him, he would never had discovered Druitt as a suspect, he never would have been stuck in that whorehouse for two weeks, he never would have had to be humiliated and almost arrested by that Earl Grey.

And he never would have had him kiss him like that. He never would have felt his touch when they had—however briefly—danced at the party.

Ciel threw down the rag into the pail of now dirty water and dragged it out of the stables toward the waterspout by the garden. He tripped and fell, spilling the contents of the bucket all over the ground and on his shoes. "Bloody hell!" he shouted to no one, "Damn it all!" He got up and picked up the bucket, stomped over to the spigot, and filled the bucket again with clean water.

"It's been a while, Ciel."

Ciel looked up from his work to see a familiar red coat and long red hair. A pair of mischievous yellow eyes danced behind a pair of red glasses. Grell had found him.

Ciel stood up and brushed off his hands, taking a cautionary step back. "Guess it has, Grell. Finally found me?"

Grell gave a low whistle. "Geez, Ci-Ci. Getting over that cant, I see."

"Wha' of it?"

The death god smiled, showing off his sharp, pointy teeth. "Spoke too soon, I guess."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Why'd it take so long for ya to find me?! I thought you were supposed to be a death god! You have all kinds'a tricks you can use—"

"Sh-sh-sh!," Grell quieted him, placing an index finger over his lips, "Remember, death gods aren't normal to other people. Just you."

"Why didn't you find me right away? I went though hell 'cause you an' Undertaker couldn't get me outta that _place!_"

Grell shrugged. "We tried, but the guy wouldn't let us get you out. Greedy bastard wanted more, and I wasn't about to go steal some money to satisfy him."

"Why?! You have any idea what I went though, Grell? It was bloody terrible! Robbin' some cove would've been worth it!"

Grell looked around. "Looks like you got out just fine without us, wouldn't you say?"

"Shut up."

Grell danced over to the low stone wall separating the stables from a garden and stretched himself over it, basking in the rare London sun. "Is that how you thank the Undertaker? How do you think the duke got that tip as to where to find you?"

Ciel stepped back again, setting down the bucket so he wouldn't drop it. "You two told Sebastian?"

Grell bobbed his head. "Yep! So see, you've got a nice life here and you're free. Happy?"

"No."

Grell stuck out his tongue at the boy. "Spoiled. Now that you know the life of luxury, you just want more. It's always the same, no matter how many centuries I live. Not that I look centuries old, though!" he fretted, suddenly sitting up, "I don't look a day over one hundred, do I? A beautiful death god like me has to keep his looks intact, you know!"

Ciel ignored his little outburst. Yes, he was a bit spoiled, but not in the material way Grell thought he was; it was more in his…_desire_…than his possessions. "So you dumped me here, now what? Want me back?"

Grell looked past the boy. Ciel turned around to see another familiar figure sporting a shabby hat and long silver hair appear from the stables. "How long were you there?!" Ciel demanded.

"Hee hee, I've been here all along," the Undertaker giggled.

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "So wha' you two want?"

The Undertaker slunk over to the wall and took a seat. "You're living here now, right Ciel?"

"I guess you two made sure of that, didn't ya?"

The Undertaker nodded, grinning. "I guess we did, didn't we? Lovely. Now, listen carefully, boy."

Grell, too impatient to wait for the Undertaker to say it, burst out with, "You're going to keep staying here, Ci-Ci! This is a great place for you to be!"

Ciel's mouth dropped open. Half of him had wanted so badly to stay, but the other secretly wanted the two death gods to take him back to the shop and away from all this. So now he was really stuck here, with his last hope of escape snuffed out. "Wh-why d'ya need me to stay—" Then he realized what they meant. He took a breath. "You two have been watching me, haven't ya?"

The two death gods nodded in sync.

"Then you both probably know that I suspect the duke."

The Undertaker frowned. "You never really stated it outright, but I could infer it. Makes sense."

"Even when you got a little cozy with him?" Grell winked.

"Aw really, Grell? Stay outta that," Ciel whined. He was blushing. He was blushing! And Grell was doubled over laughing at him.

"Ha ha, I have to admit, you've at least got good taste," the red-haired death god laughed, "That duke's a sexy one."

The Undertaker looked over at Grell, and Grell squirmed around on the wall in a fit. "Ah, I'm sorry, cutie! You're always going to be first in my book!" To reinforce this point, he leaped off the wall and dived at the Undertaker, puckering up. The Undertaker stepped out of the way and allowed Grell to land in the bush behind him without acknowledging his attack. "We're getting off topic."

Ciel nodded. "Yessir."

The silver haired man tapped the tips of his fingers together in a pyrimid under his chin. "You'll be staying here to spy on the duke. He's one of our suspects now. Understand?"

Ciel nodded. So now he had to stay even closer to Sebastian, and continue this torture of being separated even when they were so close. No, that's not how this was going to go. He was going to crack the duke's shell and get him for himself. He needed confirmation that the kiss from the party was not a fluke. He wanted it so badly he felt he might die without it.

Grell picked his way out of the bush and touched two fingers to his forehead and tipped a salute. "Well, that's sorted out," he said, turning to the Undertaker, "Are we done here, my adorable mortician?"

The Undertaker nodded. He waved to Ciel. "We'll see each other again soon," he said, "For now, keep an eye on the duke and try not to get yourself killed." His face slipped into a wide grin before he and Grell jumped high into the air and disappeared.

**Yaay Grell and Undertaker came back for a quick hello! Funny, I didn't realize how much I missed having them in this story until I wrote this chapter XD Now I'm off to finish a cosplay (Pandora Hearts ftw!), wish me luck dealing with bows and ribbon and feathers! Next chapter on January 22!**


	18. Chapter 17

**Hello one and all!!! WOW thank you for the reviews! Over _100_ reviews... whoa. Never thought this would be so popular when I first started it haha.**

**So as a reward this week for all your dedication, I'll skip the ANs and go right to the chapter! Woohoo!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

"Is this what you wanted, Merlyn?" Ciel asked, showing the maid a five-pound bag of apples.

Merlyn looked over it, then took it with a smile. "Yes, that's the one. Thank you, Ciel! You're very helpful to have around on errands like this."

The two were out and about London's outdoor markets, doing any last-minute shopping before the weekend arrived. Ciel followed Merlyn around from stall to stall, looking around at the wares being sold, displayed, and hawked. It was busy, busy, busy, with people going left and right and every direction. The boy found himself being bumped and pushed around in all directions, even being separated from Merlyn a few times. But that wasn't a problem; large crowds were, after all, his area of expertise.

Ciel swiped out his hand and plucked the wallet right out of a passing man's pocket. Lucky shot? Partially. He considered himself too skilled to blame quick successes like that entirely on luck and chance. He sifted through the wallet until he came up with some bank notes for forty pounds and stuffed them into his pocket. He dropped the evidence on the ground to be trod underfoot by the crowd and went to find Merlyn again.

"Ciel? Ciel! Where are you, Ciel?" He followed her voice and ducked through the masses of bodies until he fell out into an open spot where Merlyn was, shouting his name over the din of the shoppers.

"Yeah?" Ciel huffed, out of breath.

She looked down and swept him into a hug. "Ciel! There you are! Good God, Ciel, you had me worried."

Ciel let her hug him and sank into her motherly embrace. In that huge house, Merlyn was the only one who really paid him much attention anymore; Bard was always blowing up and cleaning up the kitchen in an endless cycle, and Sebastian didn't bother to say more than five words to him a day.

The maid stood up again and looked around, hands on her hips. "Let's see now… anything else we have to do?"

Ciel fished out a list from his pocket and looked at it. "Uh… we've got to pick up a watch for Sebastian."

Merlyn clicked her tongue, taking Ciel by the hand and guiding him through the crowd. "Really, Ciel, you have to mind your manners. Calling the duke by his given name…."

_She's just jealous that Sebastian wanted _me_ and not her for his plaything,_ Ciel thought evilly, swiping another wallet from a woman's purse when Merlyn wasn't looking and stuffing it into his coat pocket.

Merlyn bundled her coat more tightly around her against the chilly autumn air and led the two of them around a few streets and down a crowded avenue until they were entering a small watch and clock shop. Ciel glanced up to see the name: Ash's Clock and Watch Repair.

A bell chimed as the door opened and the two of them entered the shop. Merlyn went up to the counter, where a grey-haired man stood up from his stool to greet her. The two began talking about the watch and payment, but Ciel soon grew bored of listening to their conversation. He wandered around the shop, looking at all the tiny gears and cogs turning in their rightful places in clocks of all kinds. He looked behind him at Merlyn; she was still talking to Ash. He could probably slip outside and nab another few pounds while he waited.

Ciel quietly left the shop and strolled up and down the sidewalk in front of the clock shop, keeping a careful eye out for any unsuspecting person who would have his money somewhere a pickpocket like Ciel could grab it. Unfortunately, it looked as if those two earlier catches were going to be all he would get for the day; on a street where there were more expensive shops and restaurants, money was much more heavily guarded.

Disappointed, the boy snuck off into the side street running next to the clock shop. He leaned back onto the rough brick wall with a muted_ thump_ and took out the second wallet he had stolen. Two notes for ten pounds each, amounting to twenty pounds if he had done the arithmetic right. Thank god Angela had given him those brief lessons on adding and subtracting when he had lived above her pawnshop.

Aside from the money, there was a pair of pearl earrings and a cigar. Why a woman would keep something like a cigar in her purse—or wallet, for that matter—eluded the boy. But that didn't take away from the curiosity of the item. He'd always wondered what it was like to puff on one of these; all those rich men always had one in their hand or in their mouth, smoke creeping up lazily into the air like a status symbol. Though strangely enough, he had never seen Sebastian with one.

Ciel took out his knife and cut off the tip like he had seen people do before. He was about to light it with a match he found in his pocket when someone said, "Really, Ciel? Don't do that to yourself so young."

Ciel jumped so badly he dropped both the cigar and the match into the thin puddle meandering down the side street. His huge eyes widened even further in surprise when he saw who had addressed him as they peeked out from behind a rubbish bin. "F…Finny…?!" he spluttered.

Finnian flicked his gaze up and down the alley and stood up slowly, like he was ready to spring into action and bolt away at any moment. He breached the space between the two walls in three steps and crouched down next to Ciel, keeping his head ducked and his eyes shaded under his cap.

Ciel edged away from him slightly. "…wha's the matter, Finny? Someun after you?"

"You could say that," Finny said, pulling his coat tighter around him as a brisk wind was channeled though the alley, "It's good I ran into you, though. Just who I was looking for."

Ciel's thoughts exploded with questions, some of which were lucky enough to break out into his speech. "Wha? Who's chasin' you? Why're ya lookin' for me? And wha' happened to… the house?"

Finny looked around again. Seeing nothing, he turned his attention back to Ciel. His eyes were still scanning the alley. "The Yard. They've been trackin' me for a day."

The boy's expression fell until suddenly it snapped up in alarm. "Yer runnin' from the Yard?! Did Hammond get caught?"

Finny nodded. "Yeah, they busted him last night. Said some paperboys fessed up ta workin' for 'im. Gawd, I knew it wasn't good ta trust chavys like them—spill everythin' they know soon as they're asked."

Ciel was blabbering at this point; he didn't know what was falling from his mouth and what was still a thought. "I-It's closed? The Yard caught 'im? 'e's gone?"

Finny shook his head. "No, he's out there. A friend of his came ta the house last night ta warn Hammond. He got outta there just fine, but I got no idea where he went. That's why I went looking for you," he said, taking his stare away from the street and locking eyes with Ciel in all the seriousness he could gather.

Ciel shifted his weight from left to right, nervous about where this was going. "…ya really don't know where he went?"

Finny shook his head. "No clue. But I'll bet he suspects you and that duke had something to do with it—he came and took you away a little over a week ago, after all. He's got reason ta suspect you."

Ciel's stomach felt like it had dropped onto the concrete. Hammond had been found out, thank God. But now he was on the loose and looking for _him._ The boy shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him if Hammond found him. He jumped down to stare Finny in the eye. "Hide me! I gotta hide somewhere!" He grabbed the collar of the older boy's coat and shook him, mad fear taking over his huge eyes. "Somewhere he'll never find me—I gotta get away!"

Finny grabbed Ciel's arms with a surprisingly strong grip and lifted them away from his neck. "Calm down, Ciel," he said, "tha's the other thing. I was goin' ta tell the duke, too. He'll know what ta do, I'm guessin'."

Oh, right. Sebastian. Yeah, he could help. He'd know what to do. Ciel dropped his hands and stared at Finny. The two sat in silence and listened to the clatter and noise of the busy street just outside the alley opening. Soon, Merlyn's voice floated over to them. "Ciel? Ciel! Where'd you disappear off to?" The click-clack of boots tapped out a steady beat as she walked down the alley and pulled Ciel up to standing by the back of his collar. "Really, Ciel, I can't have you disappearing on me like that," she scolded, "Thought I'd lost you for a moment!" She paused, then looked past Ciel at Finny. "Who's this?"

"My friend," Ciel said a little too quickly, "He needs a place ta stay. I thought we could take 'im back to the mansion."

Merlyn weighed her options for a moment, then nodded. "Of course," she said, "We'll see what we can do." She helped Finny up and the three set out on their way back home.

Ciel could barely see straight until they hailed a cab and took their seats. He felt nauseous. Finny glanced over at him. "Ciel…? You gonna be alrigh—"

The cab driver would be very upset about the sick left in his coach.

**Bahaha Ciel is such a klepto XD And yes, Ciel got sick again. He seems to do that a lot... hm. Now that Ciel's found out about the brothel being shut down, what will he do? What will Sebastian do? Come back on January 29 for more!**


	19. Chapter 18

**Myaa my deepest condolences for the super delayed update!!! The site decided to be moody and thought my file was incorrect -_-; Thankfully, it's all fixed now, so thanks to Support!**

**UWAAH so who's heard about the new Kuroshitsuji season?! I wait for 6 months for any news about it, only to find out that Sebastian and Ciel won't even be in it?! Graah what a letdown :( But this, my friends, is why we have fanfiction and dojinshi. I've been trying to unearth any theories as to how this new season will make _any_ sense with the story and our favorite victorian yaoi pair, but I'm coming up mostly empty T_T Still, July could surprise me...**

**So yeah I finished my murderous Dante class (YAY!) and I'll have time to get ahead and maybe even finish this story! It's been bugging me for a while, I should probably work on it ^_^**

**OH! And happy (belated) birthday to Tramilisha! Again, greatest apologies about the late update. Now on to the new chapter!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Sebastian paced around the room, knuckles delicately resting on his chin in thought. Ciel, Finny, Merlyn, and Bard all sat nervously in their seats, watching him as he decided what to do. He paced slowly, deliberately, as if turning over one monstrous thought after the other with every step. The entire room was silent save for the clack of his shoes on the hardwood floor.

Ciel fidgeted. The silence was pressing in around him like a winter comforter. "Um… Sebastian? Ya know what ta do, right?"

Sebastian stopped neatly in the middle of the floor, eyes still fixed on a spot on the drapery hanging on the full-length French windows lining the far wall. He tapped his chin. "Ciel, must I remind you of your speech at this time? It's quite unsightly."

Ciel's gut wrenched in a knot. Was _that_ what he was concerned with right now, his _speech?_ There was a crazed man on the loose after him, and that's all he could say. The whole situation sickened him to the core. He clenched his teeth and measured his words carefully. "What… is… the plan, _Your Grace?_"

Sebastian did not acknowledge his efforts other than a simple "That is better." He looked away from the window and paced over to Finny. "You are certain that Mr. Hammond escaped, correct?"

Finny balled up his hands on his knees and bit his lip, bobbing his head up and down like a nervous child. "Y-yes, sir! 'appened last night – a man dressed in some fancy white clothes with white hair came in and told him. Then he took 'is money box and left. He doesn't go out at night, so I followed 'im down the street until 'e got into a cab. When I got back ta the house, the Yard was already there and raiding the place! Like the sensible guy I am, I took off!" He forced out the last few words in a huff, out of breath from talking so fast.

Sebastian held up a finger, hailing Finny to stop his report. Ciel couldn't help the goosebumps that ran down his arms at the duke's smoldering red eyes; no one could look so beautiful when they were angry. It shouldn't be possible to be so striking.

"You say this man who informed Hammond of the Yard's raid was wearing white, and had white hair?" he questioned.

Finny nodded again. "Yeah, he looked pretty young, too. Bit odd fer a toff like him to be sporting tha' color in 'is hair."

Sebastian's eyes flashed again, and Finny shrank back in his seat in fear. The duke stood up and resumed his pacing. "This complicates matters. Though I cannot say it surprises me. We must place Ciel and Finnian into hiding until this mess has passed over," he concluded, stepping to a stop in the center of the floor and facing his servants. "You must not let the Scotland Yard find these two. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the cook and the maid proclaimed, Bard even throwing up a salute. Sebastian dismissed them all with a wave of his hand. Finny rushed out of the room as soon as he had both feet on the ground, and Merlyn and Bard exited to prepare for their hiding place. Ciel stayed standing by what had been his seat a moment ago, still watching the duke testily.

A beat. Ciel waited for the duke to speak, _dared_ him to say something, anything at all, to him. He had not spoken to him in days, and now here they were in a room alone, practically being forced to interact. Would he take the bait?

Sebastian walked over to the French windows and slid a gloved finger along the wooden frame. He rubbed the dust he picked up between his fingers, frowning. "I must ask Merlyn to pay attention to the dusting."

Ciel crossed his arms and tapped his foot. He continued to glare at Sebastian's profile. At last, he forced himself to break the silence. "I'm still 'ere, you know."

Sebastian's lips pulled up in a smirk. "Really now. You have been so withdrawn as of late that I would not have noticed if you were not."

That did it. Ciel stalked over to the duke and locked eyes with him, arms akimbo. "Is that it, then? Am I nothin' to ya?! I'm just a toy fer you to play with, then break when I get boring?!"

Sebastian bent down to eye level and tipped Ciel's chin up to meet his gaze. "I'm glad you see it my way," he said, kissing Ciel on the forehead before sweeping out of the room before Ciel could barely blink. The boy could have sworn he saw a lone black feather settle to the ground where the duke had just been, before it disintegrated into dust upon touching the wood.

* * *

"Ciel, over this way," Bard placed a hand on Ciel's back and hurried him down the corridor as soon as the boy had stepped out of the room. He didn't respond, but let Bard show him down into the kitchens to meet up with Merlyn and Finny. His mind was a blank; fitting, seeing as Sebastian saw him as no more than a toy. All this obsession, all this chasing and hoping, everything had been pointless! He clenched his teeth in embarrassment at the thought of how stupid he must have seemed to the duke, always following him and clinging to him like a hungry puppy.

They entered the kitchen and Ciel shrugged off Bard's hand. Merlyn scurried over to him with a coat in her hand. "You're finally here! Finny's gone off to look for you—he should be back any minute now."

Ciel stood rooted to the spot. Sebastian had ordered the servants to hide him and Finny. Right, like he was going to listen to someone who had ignored and strung him along for so long. Merlyn draped the coat over his shoulders, but Ciel shrugged it off and walked to the other side of the kitchen.

Merlyn picked up the coat. "What's wrong, Ciel? We're going to hide you so the Yard cannot take you away."

"Who says that's what you're doing?!" Ciel snapped, "All I know, ya could be hidin' me from the people I need ta be talkin' to!"

Bard folded his arms. "What are you talking about, boy?"

Ciel's eyes shifted from Merlyn and Bard to the door, then back again. "Yes keepin' me from the law! I've got info fer them if they need ta find that bastard Hammond! Finny, too! An' you're jus hidin' me and keepin' that info from 'em!"

Bard fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit up, taking a long drag before speaking again. "What makes you think the Scotland Yard will listen to you, Ciel? To them, you're just a pickpocket who found work at a brothel only to be bought up by the duke. They'd sooner arrest you—and the duke, for that matter—than listen to what you have to say."

"Tch," Ciel hissed. He leaned back against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the cold stone floor. He hated to admit it, but Bard was right. It was wrong and biased, but it was the truth. Merlyn came over to him and wrapped him in the coat again. Ciel did not make an effort to take it off.

Merlyn sat down next to him. "We are acting on our master's orders, Ciel," she said, "But I hope you know that we would do all this over again on our own if it was to keep the two of you safe." She pushed her glasses up her nose and met the boy's eyes. "Can you trust me? Or at least know that we are here to help?"

Ciel drew his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms over them. He stared straight ahead at a crack in the stone wall of the kitchen. "I know a place we can hide," he said at last.

Merlyn gave a tiny smile and stood up again, stumbling over her heeled boots before standing up straight. "Wah! Oh, alright."

A frantic knocking at the door signaled Bard to let a hysterical Finny into the room. The boy was more frazzled than Ciel had ever seen him, which had not been much now that he thought about it. Finny gasped for breath as he relayed his report. "W-we gotta go! Get outta here! They're here already!"

Bard locked the door behind him and threw a coat at Finny. "Put this on, we're leaving!"

Merlyn offered her hand to Ciel to help him up, but he did not take it. He stood up and followed Bard out the back door at a run. He looked back in time to see the carriages of the Scotland Yard stop in front of the mansion and Duke Sebastian Michaelis standing at the top of the stone staircase ready to greet them.

**Woow I need to get crackin' on next week's update. And I thought I'd be able to keep ahead on this story (and I have, up until now -_-;). Well, I'm off to help my sister defeat Demyx. Catch you all on February 5!**


	20. Chapter 19

**Welcome back to another week of The Undertaker's Apprentice! I've gotta dash off pretty soon (getting my hair cut!), so I'll keep this short. Also, because it's a long chapter this week, and I think you all will appreciate a short note so you can get to reading already :D Soo here we are, a new installment!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Earl Charles Grey did not bother with introductions. "Your Grace, the Scotland Yard has reason to believe that you are harboring fugitives from the law in your home."

Sebastian turned up the corners of his mouth into an innocent smile. "Now why would the Yard doubt my integrity in such a scandalous matter, Earl?"

"Since we have proof that you have been hiding a boy involved in human trafficking for three weeks," a man wearing a long, green coat and a matching hat covering red hair said. He stepped around Charles and handed a slip of paper to the duke, tipping his hat. "That would be a search warrant, Your Grace. We must find this boy."

Sebastian handled the paper delicately, drawing out every movement for the sake of irritating Charles. He skimmed over the neat writing on the page; it was indeed a warrant. Folding it up and putting it in his pocket, Sebastian addressed the man in the green coat, "You would be so kind as to describe this boy to me, Abberline? I must know whom you are searching for, after all."

"Of course," Fred Abberline said, taking another slip of paper out of his pocket and squinting at it, "Let's see…"

Charles rolled his eyes and swatted away at Abberline to slience him. "Approximately ten to twelve years of age, black hair, large blue eyes, pale," he interrupted, fixing Sebastian with a hard glare, "I am quite sure that you know this boy, Your Grace. It would be in your best interest for you to step aside and allow the Yard to pass."

"I would never think of inconveniencing you," Sebastian stepped aside and swept his hand towards the front doors, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

Charles stepped past him and muttered under his breath, "You cannot hide anything from me, Duke Michaelis. It is against both our natures to be able to conceal matters from our kind."

Sebastian smiled placidly and led the group into the main lobby. "I welcome you to my mansion, Detective Abberline, Earl Grey. Please go about your business, though I must ask you hurry along with it; I only have so much time on my hands."

"We will take all the time that is necessary," Abberline said, scribbling furiously in his notebook. He looked up and gazed around. "Now that I look around, may I enquire as to where your servants have run off to? Surely you have not hired such an irresponsible staff?"

"My staff is out for the afternoon," Sebastian said smoothly, "I am hosting guests at the end of the week, and I wish my servants to be prepared to greet and attend to them."

Abberline raised an eyebrow at the duke's lie, but said nothing. Instead, he continued scribbling in his notebook. The officers of the Scotland Yard scattered throughout the house's levels and rooms in search of Ciel, Charles joining them with great zeal. He ducked into the study, the drawing room, and the dining hall in turn, searching each hiding spot he could find. Though no matter where he searched, the boy was still not found.

"Check the grounds! The cellars! He could be anywhere," Charles snapped at the Yard, the frustration beginning to leak into his voice.

The duke strode up next the Abberline. "May I ask how my name has become so entangled in this investigation?"

Abberline continued to examine the lobby, and spoke in low tones without making eye contact. "We discovered and raided a brothel last night, and your name was recorded as having purchased one of the rent boys three weeks previous to the raid. As you very well know, human trafficking carries with it substantial legal action."

"I understand perfectly," the duke nodded and pulled an assuring smile before going back to his place. Sebastian waited patiently in the center of the marble floored lobby, watching thorugh his narrow red eyes as the Yard darted in and out of doorways and up and down the grand staircase. He stood perfectly still, perfectly at ease, for all the world a duke completely innocent of the charges made against him.

Then suddenly the entire investigation screeched to a halt when a Yard officer ran out of the study and gave Abberline a small drawstring bag. The deteactive looked inside it, poked his finger in, and rubbed a pinch of fine white powder between his thumb and forefinger. The policeman stood at attention, waiting for an analysis. "Wot would this be, detec'tive? Opium?"

Abberline looked at the powder, smelled it. Then he looked over at Sebastian. "Are you prescribed any medication, Duke Michaelis?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I am not, detective."

Abberline walked steadily over to the duke, still looking at the white powder. He held up the small bag to Sebastian. "Have you not also been involved in the recent string of serial poisonings of Paula Tyndall, Elizabeth Middleford, and Jenny Knoll?"

"I have been investigating them."

Abberline stood still for a moment, then turned on his heel and walked briskly toward the door. "Arrest this man! He is a prime suspect as to the murderer's identity, proven by his possession of a bag of strychnine, found in his study!"

The police immedietly set upon Sebastian, binding his wrists with handcuffs and leading him away. The duke did not struggle. Charles emerged from the dining hall to sneer at the duke as he was led away. "As I said before, Sebastian: You cannot hide anything from me. This is what you are, and what I am. Two sides of the same mirror."

Sebastian sneered back and a low, threatening growl resounded through the room, causing the policemen to shrink back for a moment before continuing their task of leading him to the carriages.

* * *

Ciel splashed through the puddles pooled in the holes of the sidewalk with Finny close at his heels. Bard and Merlyn were not far behind them. He did not dare to stop running or to look behind him to see how far they had gone from where Bard had left the carriage. There was no time, nowhere was safe, he could trust no one—not even himself. He had made so many choices over the past month that had led to all kinds of twists and turns he wished he had not travelled; his personal judgement was not to be relied upon at this time. So then why were these three all following _him?_

"Ciel, where did you say we could hide?" Finny huffed from his left, breathless from running.

"It's where I used ta work before I landed in tha' place wit Hammond and you," he answered, "We got ourselves a safe place there."

Finny bobbed his head in understanding. "Got it."

Ciel ran faster and slipped, falling smack down onto the concrete sidewalk. "Ah!"

Merlyn stumbled to a halt and pulled Ciel up. "Are you alright, Ciel?" she asked as the group moved into a quieter side street concealed from the main avenue.

Ciel was most certainly not fine. Both his knees were cut and bruised, and his nose was flowing with blood like a fountain. His eyes stung from the pain, but he could not allow himself to cry here. "Do I _look_ alrigh' ta you?!" he snapped instead.

Merlyn sighed and blotted away the blood with her hankerchief. Ciel gritted his teeth as his wounds sent shock waves of pain through his body each time Lerlyn touched them. Bard folded his arms and looked around the corner nervously at the street. "Come on, we got to go! The Yard'll be on to us soon enough!"

Ciel shot him a dark look but stood up, allowing Merlyn to support him. The group hurried down the street a ways until Ciel jerked his head at a dilapidated shop front with a sign above the door reading "UNDERTAKER". "This's it."

They all stumbled into the shop. Ciel lifted his head and called, "Oi! Undertaker! Grell!"

No answer. Finny shrank behind Merlyn—he looked a little sick. Were coffins and organs floating in jars not his cup of tea? Ciel rolled his eyes in boredom.

"You think they're out?" Bard said, leaning back against the wall.

Ciel shook his head. "Nah, they're always 'ere. At least one 'o 'em is."

Right on cue, Grell poked his head out from behind the door to the upstairs apartment. A wild grin spread across his face and he bounded down the stairs, hastily throwing on his coat and shouting, "Undertaker! It's fine, it's just little Ci-Ci and some friends!"

The Undertaker glided down the steps and smoothed out his rumpled hair. He frowned at the group. "Ciel, why are you back here? You stage an escape from the duke for all his servants?"

Ciel glared at the death god through a pair of narrow slits. "Yeah, we're runnin'. But not from that toff of a duke."

Grell squeezed Ciel up in a greeting hug and spun him around. "It's great to have you back, Ci-Ci! We missed you, even if that stubborn Undertaker doesn't like to admit it!"

"Put him down, Grell," the Undertaker said, "We have to talk." Grell obliged and set the boy down. He jumped up on a coffin and took a seat to watch from above. "You said you were running from something?"

Merlyn picked up the question. "The Yard discovered the place Finny and Ciel had been forced to work at and raided it. Finny got away and came to stay with us, but the Scotland Yard found out tha' they were at Duke Michaelis's mansion and arrived this morning. We've been on the run ever since."

The Undertaker clicked his tongue and tapped his chin with a long black fingernail. "So you decided to come here to hide, is that right?"

Merlyn nodded. "I hope this isn't too much trouble."

The Undertaker looked over at her. "Actually, it is. Well, not for me, anyway. It might pose a bit of a problem for all of you, though."

Finny's mouth dropped open. "What? Why?!"

The silver haired death god pointed a crooked finger out the window. "The location isn't exactly advantageous—you know what's just a few blocks away?"

Finny crossed his arms and tapped his foot as he thought. Then he looked back up at the Undertaker. "Oh."

"'Oh' is right," the Undertaker nodded, "The red-light district is too close by. You said it got raided last night—I'm sure they're still there in that case."

Ciel jammed his hands onto his hips. "Then where the bloody 'ell are we supposed to go?! You tell us!"

Grell slid off the coffin and landed gracefully on the floor. "There's always Angela. Didn't you used to live with her before you showed up here begging for a job?"

Bard looked down at the boy. "Angela? A friend?"

"Yeah, I used ta live above 'er shop," Ciel said, keeping explanations brief for the sake of time.

Merlyn clapped her hands. "Well, then, could one of you gentlemen show us the way to this Angela?"

The Undertaker chuckled and stepped back. "If it's a gentleman you want, Grell's the one to address as such, not me. He'll show you the way."

''Aww, really, Undertaker? You're really too sweet!" Grell blew him a kiss and spun out the door, "This way, everyone!"

Merlyn raised her eyebrows so high Ciel was afraid they would disappear into her hairline, and Bard nearly choked on his cigarette. He could not help but give a tiny amused smile; his caretakers took some getting used to, even without the fact that they were both supernatural beings. The group set off for the second time that day, this time to a pawnshop with—everyone prayed—a little hospitality for four outlaws.

**Woow plot twists! This chapter was really interesting to write, actually, because I hadn't considered Sebastian being arrested when I was planning this thing out. But I think it works much better this way ^_^ I'm very sorry to announce that this story will be going on a ONE WEEK HIATUS so I can catch up on the story and because I won't have easy access to WiFi next weekend. BUT this story will most definitely be back on February 19! I know, I know, I _hate_ it when stories get put on hiatus, but I hate putting them on hiatus even more :(**


	21. Chapter 20

**Hello to all my wonderful readers I have returned! Pumped full of energy drink that tastes like melted chewing gum and ready to present a NEW CHAPTER! After a one week hiatus, I thought it'd be awesome to come back with a long chapter, and that I did! **

**Happy belated Valentine's Day to everyone, by the way! And thank you to everyone who wished me a happy one, too ^_^ I had a great two weeks - loads of work, but it's been so worth it in the end. Finished cosplays, a great convention, so glad it all worked out! And now I'm back on track with the story (and have a better grasp on what the plot's morphed into, for that matter)! **

**So please enjoy this new chapter! I personally like it a lot heehee**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Grell amused himself on their journey through the back alleys and streets of London by jumping from awning to awning, much to Merlyn's horror. He alighted on the windowsill of a second story window when he heard a thin wail seep though the air from below. Grinning, he looked down at the group of runaways and servants. "Something wrong?"

Merlyn pushed her glasses up her nose and composed herself as best she could. "If you would be so kind as to step down to the street and behave like a normal person!" she scolded, "I'm still young but my nerves tend to be a tad too much for me to handle at times. I can't imagine what would happen to you if you fell from that height!"

Grell stepped nonchalantly off the sill and slid down the awning, coming to rest on the street as if he had simply floated down from the building. "Wouldn't want a guy like me getting hurt, now would we?" he smirked, "Humans are rather fragile". Ciel joined him in his little joke and allowed himself a small grin.

The group continued onward into the city, Ciel staying close behind Merlyn. He really could have escaped at any time had he wanted to, but at this point where else could he go? He didn't have a home anymore, save for this last glimmer of hope that was Angela's shop and nitpicky personality.

"What kinda person is this Angela, Ciel?" Finny fell into step beside the younger boy, leaning down slightly to talk face to face.

Ciel shrugged. "Just'an old lady runnin' a dollyshop. I lived with 'er after my parents died when the boardin' house burned down."

Merlyn stepped around behind Ciel and gently hugged him to her. "Poor boy…," she cooed, "So young, but ye'v already been though so much…"

_And you don' know the half o' it_, Ciel thought as his gut clenched in anxiety.

Bard took a drag of the cigarette dangling from his lip. "We getting there soon or what?"

Grell gave a toothy grin and hopped around the street like a crazed frog. "Almost there!" he chirped. It occurred to Ciel that Grell had never actually been to Angela's shop before. The only reason he and the Undertaker knew about her was because of Ciel's prior living arrangements. Then again, Grell practically knew all of London's winding pathways and streets like the back of his own hand; he could find the pawnshop like it was nothing, given his powers as a death god.

Then, faster than a bullet, a rush of vibrant red swooped back at the four of them and they all flew into a side street. Ciel coughed from the impact and sat down wherever he had ended up, which had unfortunately been a murky rain puddle.

Merlyn dusted herself off and adjusted her glasses. "Grell, I told you about my nerves! Oh dear, oh dear, Finny? Ciel? Are you two alright?"

"I am, if you want to know," Bard offered.

"Shh! Gotta be quiet, all of you!" Grell hissed with a finger to his lips. He jabbed a finger out at the street. "Don't want to be caught!"

The group fell silent as the sound of uniform footsteps clacked closer and closer on the cobblestones. Ciel's breath caught; it was the police. The boy glanced over at Finny to see his eyes shut so tight he looked ten years older than he was. He was probably the worst off out of all of them—he had gotten involved in the Cleveland Street incident far deeper than Ciel ever had been.

Grell flapped his hand at the four of them to remain silent until Merlyn slapped his hand away. They all leaned forward ever so slightly in hopes of catching a bit of conversation.

"…have ya heard the rumors about that Cleveland Street raid?" one of them was saying. Ciel forgot how to breathe in his anxiety.

"Well, yeah, we got ta know all 'bout that, don't we?" the other one, a deeper voice, responded, "We're on the case lookin' fer people who're still runnin!"

"Haven't gotten much," the other sighed, "Not e'en the man behind it all."

"But did ya 'ear 'bout the prince?" the other said, dropping his voice so Ciel could barely hear it, "they say 'e was one o' the names on the list o' visitors!"

"Shh! Ya 'ave any idea what kinda rumors ya be spreadin' like that? Pipe down!" the other squeaked.

The clack of boots passed by the opening into the side street and faded away, the voices leaving with them. Grell stuck out his arm again to keep them all from venturing out for a few minutes, then they all set out again. "Such a pain you guys can't jump up on roofs and travel that way…"

Merlyn stared at him in shock. "You're saying you can?!"

Grell shrugged. "A simple trick."

Merlyn oogled at him, but decided not to question the man further for fear of discovering all manner of odd things about him—which, Ciel knew all too well, were endless.

They soon arrived at the shop and Ciel peered inside the foggy window. "She 'ere?" Finny piped up.

Ciel nodded. "Yeah, I'll go in an' get 'er." He pushed the door open and stepped inside the shop. "Angela? It's Ciel!"

Angela's long face framed with silver hair appeared from behind a folding screen. Her face and hands were smeared with dust. "Ciel? Oh, I'm so glad to see you again! I was so worried about you since the last time we talked!" She bustled out from the screen, wiping her hands on her dusting rag and putting it away.

"Actually, I need a bit o' 'elp," the boy said, "well, me an' some friends."

"I'd be overjoyed ta 'elp!" the woman said, following Ciel outside to greet the rest of the group.

Bard gave a small bow and shook Angela's hand. "I'm Bard, the chef fer Duke Michaelis. We're all workin' fer the duke, you see. Well, at least we _were_."

Angela nodded. "It's alright, you all can stay here. Come, come, I'll make some tea—it's awful outside at this time of year!" she shooed the servants inside and was about to follow them inside when she locked eyes on Grell. "What are _you?_" she hissed.

Ciel paused mid step. Was something wrong? He went over to Grell and stood beside him to give the introductions. "Angela, this 'ere's Grell, 'e's—"

"I don' bloody care _who_ 'e is! Get 'im away from my shop!" the woman suddenly screeched. She held her head in her hand and pointed an accusing finger at Grell. Her eyes were mad. "'e is not welcome 'ere, Ciel! Understand?! _Not _allowed anywhere near 'ere, e'er! Git 'im _away!_ Git 'im away!"

Grell backed up. Ciel recoiled when he saw a dangerous glint in his eyes behind those red glasses. "Not welcome, eh?" he sneered. He pulled his lips back, exposing his razor sharp teeth, quickly resembling a feral cat in the way he balanced himself on his toes as if to attack any moment.

Angela shakily fumbled in her pockets, then thrust out her hands in front of her. She began praying on a battered wooden rosary as fast as she could draw a breath. "Our father, 'o art in 'eaven…"

A threatening growl passed Grell's teeth and Ciel could have sworn he saw him bristle at the very mention of the holy words. Before the situation could progress any further, he jumped in between the two of them, pushing Grell back toward the main street from which they had come. "Grell, Grell, snap outta it! We're fine 'ere!"

Grell took a step back toward Angela, who was still murmuring prayers under her breath. Ciel shoved him back. He was joined by Bard, and together they pushed and dragged him to the intersection of the streets, where Grell calmed down enough to be able to speak again.

"What tha bloody 'ell ya think you were doin'?!" Ciel shouted at him, "Ya coulda really messed up yer luck there, both fer you _and_ the Undertaker!"

Grell still had that murderous glint in his yellow eyes. "That bitch," he muttered, "I'll kill her. I swear, I'm gonna kill her!"

Ciel swung his hand around as hard as he could and landed a solid slap on Grell's face. "Shut up! Yer not gonna kill anyun, ya hear?! No 'un!"

Grell sat in the street for a minute in silence before he steadily got to his feet and dusted himself off. "I'll be seeing you then, Ci-Ci," he chirped, "Got to go see my cute Undertaker!" And with that he was off.

Bard scratched his head. "I don' think I know much about what just happened," he admitted, "but is it really alright to let someone like him go off on his own after that?"

Ciel shrugged. "'e won' be any more trouble. We're good 'ere."

Bard nodded. "I sure hope yer right," he said, "Don't want the new landlady suddenly turning up dead, do I?"

The pair headed back to the shop to help a crying, wild Angela back inside so she could calm down. "Devil… devil…" she wheezed, "Devil…"

* * *

The remainder of the afternoon was a blur of cleaning out the extra room, setting up sleeping areas, and helping Angela come back down from her fit. When Ciel lay down to sleep that night, he was glad for the opportunity to rest. However, he could not sleep; his worry had gotten the better of him.

What had happened to Sebastian after they left? He had not told any of them one word of what he was planning to do, jus that they needed to hide. If he had told Bard or Merlyn something, Ciel had no clue about it. He was completely in the dark, and it was a cold, lonely place to find himself. It terrified him.

The rest of the night was a fitful mess of nightmares. Ciel was on an empty street, no lights were illuminating the scene save for a handful of fading street lamps. A lamplighter staggered from post to post, waving his pole around so wildly Ciel was afraid he was mad. He lit the remaining lamps, growing closer and closer each time.

At last, when all the lamps were lit, the lamplighter's face was revealed to Ciel, inches away from his own.

It was Charles. A grotesque form, mutilated like a doll with too perfect features and jerky movements. He tilted his neck completely to the side to touch his ear to his shoulder, staring down a Ciel totally frozen in terror. His unblinking eyes began to cry, but it was not tears that ran down his wooden cheeks—it was dark, shimmering crimson blood. He grinned and a glass-shattering screech cut the air, splitting all the lamps open and snuffing out the lights at once. But it was not soot that rained down from the dead lamps—it was black feathers.

Ciel jerked awake and would have screamed if Merlyn had not covered his mouth. "Ciel, Bard and I are leaving with Grell," she whispered, "Something's come up that we need to help with."

"Wh-what about me an' F-Finny?" Ciel whispered back, still shaken from the nightmare.

"It's not something an eleven year old and a sixteen year old need be involved in," Merlyn answered. She drew the covers up around the boy's shoulders and tucked him in again. "Go back to sleep now, it's still too early to get up for the day."

With that, she was gone. And Ciel was left alone in the dark once again.

**...hope the whole dream sequence wasn't too cliched -_-; I tried to make it original, not too run-of-the-mill... And I'd been looking forward to writing that scene with Grell and Angela for a while. Ah, I need to burn off this newfound energy! I've only now discovered the wonders of energy drinks (they're kind of my last resort if I need to stay up ~_~), and WOW do they work! Next chapter on February 26!**


	22. Chapter 21

**Hey everybody guess what? It's Friday! And that means another chapter! Hurrah!**

**Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing lately, by the way. I love getting reviews so much - lets me know what you all like and what you don't about this story, and plus it keeps me in good morale ^_^ which, you know, is nice. Authors in a good mood are generally a good thing - they get more done that way! At least speaking from experience... So thank you to all of you! I think that's been overdue for a while.**

***claps hands* Now, who's ready for a new chapter?! I know I am! Go forth, my readers!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel groggily opened his eyes to meet rays of unusually bright—and all too rare—London sunlight streaming through the window. He rubbed his eyes and fought against the urge to drift off to sleep again. He must have lost, because the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes once again to the morning light.

"…el? ….Ciel?"

Ciel's large eyes fluttered open to see Finny leaning over him, striking blue eyes wide in concern. "Hm?" was all he could manage as he slowly woke up.

Finny sat back on the soles of his feet. "Angela's got some brekkast fer us downstairs."

Ciel sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked around the room, which looked vastly different from when the group had arrived the previous evening. For starters, two of the mattresses that had been made up last night were gone. Ciel opened his mouth to ask where Merlyn and Bard had gone, but then he remembered Merlyn's hasty goodbye earlier that morning. "Merlyn an' Bard went ta—"

"Yeah, I know," Finny said, "Grell took 'em… somewhere."

Ciel dragged himself out of bed. How late had he slept? "Somewhere, ya say?" He narrowed his eyes at the older boy. Finny averted his eyes. "Ya know somethin', I know it. Spill."

Finny kept his eyes fixed on the floor. "They told me not ta tell ya, Ciel. I can't."

Ciel knelt down in front of Finny and leaned forward until he was face to face with him. "Finny, ya gotta tell me! Where'd they go?!" Why did people keep hiding things from him?! He could handle it. Damn it, why couldn't people see that he couldn't be kept in the dark about everything?

Finny looked up through his eyelashes at Ciel. "Promise one thing, first."

Ciel nodded. "Sure. What?"

Finny clamped his hands down on the boy's shoulders, as if to keep him from flying away. "You gotta keep calm about it. No firin' off at me, got it?"

Ciel raised an eyebrow. "…yeah, I got it. What 'appened, Finny?"

"…Scotland Yard found poison in Sebastian's 'ouse that matched the one tha murd'ra was usin'," Finny whispered, "'e's waitin' fer his trial."

Ciel's throat closed up. He didn't want to ask his next question, but he still heard himself squeak, "W-what 'appens if…?"

Finny balled up his fists. "H-he hangs."

Ciel sat back on the floor, completely silent. He surprised himself with his reaction, but it did not scare him. He said nothing, for he felt nothing. So Sebastian had been the murderer all along. Even after Ciel had only just started to move past his suspicions of him, he was finally exposed as what he really was. Ciel knew he should feel betrayed, hurt, lied to, but that was hardly relevant at this point. Had he not always been lied to this entire time by the Undertaker, Grell, Hammond, and Sebastian from the start?

Finny fidgeted from his spot on the floor. "Um… Ciel? You okay?"

Ciel still said nothing, but got up and plucked his clothes up from the floor to change out of the nightclothes he borrowed from Angela's shop downstairs.

Finny tried again. "I thought you might 'ave somethin' ta say…"

"Why would I?" Ciel's sudden response made Finny jump. He scrambled to find an answer to the younger boy's question.

"W-well, I thought ya'd be a little more… I dunno. Somethin'."

Ciel shrugged. "Why'd ya think I'd be worried 'bout a cove like 'im? I've got nothin' ta be worried 'bout."

"Ciel, 'e's gonna be nubbed—"

Ciel faced away from Finny and pulled his shirt over his head, buttoning it up. "So 'e's gonna be 'anged. Serves tha sick murd'ra right."

Finny started to say something more, but stopped and stood up as well. "I'll see ya downstairs fer brekkast."

Ciel heard his footsteps exit the room and the door close with a soft tap. "Bloody bugger," he cursed halfheartedly, "the duke's gettin' wha's been comin' ta 'im fer killin' rich girls like that." He finished dressing and ventured down the stairs to the shop. He followed his nose to the kitchen in the back room where Angela had prepared some breakfast for the two boys.

"G'morning, Ciel," Angela greeted with a smile as Ciel sat down at the rickety table with Finny, "Sleep well?"

Ciel shrugged. "Good enough. A'least until Merlyn woke me up earlier."

Finny took a bite out of a slice of bread. "Good she didn' tell ya why, though—you wouldn't've gotten any sleep at all!" he mumbled through his breakfast.

Ciel crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "I told ya, Finny, 'e's got wha's been coming ta 'im, nothin' more than that."

Angela cast a sidelong glance at the boys from preparing a pot of tea at the stove. "What's this all about?"

Finny spoke up before Ciel could protest. "Duke Michaelis got nibbed yesterday—Yard found some poison in 'is 'ouse that's been used in tha killin's that've been happenin'. Far as I can tell, 'e's on 'is way ta the chates."

Angela scuttled over to the table with the teapot and served everyone a cup. "Oh? So the case is solved?"

Finny nodded. "Yeah, just have ta prove 'e's guilty."

Ciel frowned. "Won't take much, if ya ask me. Still… turned out ta be awfully simple."

"Told ya you wouldn't take this sittin' down," Finny said under his breath.

Ciel shot him a cold glare. "I'm sayin' it turned out ta be awfully easy for how long it took ta catch 'im. Three girls dead, an' it was someun as obvious as tha duke?"

Finny scratched his head. "Ah, maybe. I dunno, I'm just glad they found somethin' after all this searchin'—"

"Four," Finny corrected him, "Irene Diaz turned up dead a week ago. 'er producer, Grimsby Keane, found 'er poisoned backstage."

Ciel ground his teeth. "An' no one told me _because_…?"

Finny shrank back in his chair. "Wah, I'm sorry! I thought ya knew, or the duke told ya, or somethin'! I'm jus' tellin' ya what I've heard off tha streets with gossip—"

Ciel tuned out the rest of the older boy's feeble apologies and began to think. "Irene Diaz… Sebastian's talked about 'er. Famous opera singer. Pretty rich, too."

Angela sipped her tea. "Seems like she fits yer bill, Ciel," she observed.

Ciel nodded. "Yeah, but she's older than the first three. A lot older, like in her twenties?"

Angela tapped her chin. "So the murderer—the duke—wasn't only targetin' younger girls ta kill? 'e set 'is sights 'igher, ya mean?"

Ciel was quiet, cogitating the woman's ideas. Then his eyes grew wide, like they were seeing Angela and Finny for the first time. "Tha's it!" he proclaimed, pounding his palm with his fist.

Finny came back from his shower of excuses to ask, "Wha's it?"

"Sebastian's not the murd'ra!" the boy shouted, "'e can't be!"

Angela rested a hand on his shoulder. "I know, Ciel, it's 'ard, but tha Yard's got tha proof—"

"Not the right proof," Ciel said as he stood up and shook off Angela's hand, "Irene died before Sebastian got taken by tha Yard, but 'er death proves it can't be 'im!"

Angela gathered up the teacups and carried them over to the washtub. "Go on," she said as she began to wash them.

Ciel was pacing now. So many ideas, so many conclusions were jumping around in his head, it was exhilarating. For once, he knew everything. No one else had any idea where he was taking them; he was in charge. Everyone had to listen to _him_, and no one could hide anything from him. He had the answers. "Sebastian's pat would've 'ad ta've been Nina Hopkins—she's tha only one who could get tha poison from Sebastian an' slip it inta the girls' food while she visited 'em ta make their dresses! But she 'ad no way of gettin' ta Irene. She only makes clothes fer kids, she'd never get ta do somethin' fer a famous opera singer like Irene!"

"…so 'e doesn't 'ave an accomplice," Finny said, slowly going through Ciel's sudden jabber as pieces started to fall into place, "But 'e could've just gone an' done it 'imself."

The boy shook his head. "No, 'e'd never get 'is own 'ands dirty doin' that. E'en if 'e wanted someun dead, 'e'd never do it 'imself—'e's too proud an' worried 'bout his reputation."

Finny got up and began pacing with Ciel, the two of them circling each other and gesticulating madly as they shouted out their ideas. Angela skirted out of the room, taking a broom with her as the boys sprang around the kitchen.

"What 'bout the religious motive?"

"Sebastian doesn't practice any!"

"Why didn't 'e flee tha mansion with us when the Yard was comin'?"

"Because 'e was innocent! 'e didn't have nothin' ta be afraid of!"

Finny stopped pacing. "Then who's responsible? Strychine—that what it's called?—doesn't jus' walk into yer house."

Ciel sat back down. "We'll just 'ave ta find the bugger, won't we?"

Everything was still for a moment in the kitchen. Then they both moved at once. Ciel and Finny were almost to the door when Angela swooped in and blocked their path. "An' where d'ya think yer goin'?"

"We've gotta get Sebastian outta jail!" Ciel said, "'e'll be pattered and 'anged if we don' do somethin'!"

Angela shook her head and gently pushed them back. "Sorry, but no. Tha duke's been nibbed, that Yard knows who's been killin' those girls, ya wouldn't stand a chance."

"But we've got evidence—"

"Yer not goin' and pikin' off on me, boys," Angela said sharply, "Tha's final. Now go an' 'elp me tidy up fer the day."

Defeated and sunk, Ciel and Finny retreated and went about their duties.

**Aww I love Ciel and Finny's friendship in this story, it's so sweet ^_^ I can totally see them shouting at each other in a fit of discovery! Now that things have started to fall into place for Ciel, what will he do now? Or has anything really started to be solved...? I still love reviews :) Next chapter on March 5! Ooh, that's when Alice in Wonderland comes out (don't own it, though what I wouldn't give...)!**


	23. Chapter 22

***yawn* good morning, everyone. Happy Friday, and I hope your week was better than mine! Classes are getting tougher, so much to do before the marking period wraps up ;_;**

**But anyway, there's still a chapter this week, even if I had to resort to energy drinks again! I hope you like this update, it's pretty awesome for something written in two days :D**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Finny leaned against the wall of his and Ciel's room with a _thud_. "Ya got any ideas?" he asked.

Ciel plucked a stool out of the far corner and carried it across the room as deftly as any housewife carrying a basket of laundry. "I got an' idea ta get outta here, if that's wha' ya mean."

Finny nodded slowly. "That I do. Now wha's the plan?"

Ciel set down the stool under the lone window in the room and climbed up onto it. "What's it look like I'm doin', Finny? Make sure I don't fall!" Finny strode over to Ciel and stood behind him, bracing himself to catch the boy if he fell. Ciel stood on tiptoe and poked his head over the ledge of the window to look out into the street. ""s a long way down…"

Finny shrugged. "Really? 'cause I coulda sworn ya were ready ta do anythin' ta get ta the trib an' free the duke."

"Shut up," Ciel muttered, hopping down from the stool and looking up at the high window. "I can't reach tha latch. Try it for me?"

"Sure thing!" Finny jumped up onto the stool and opened the rusted shut window latch with the ease of a child untying a ribbon on a present. The window opened with an earsplitting squeak.

Ciel stared with eyes wide. "Y-yer awfully strong, Finny," he noted.

Finny smiled brightly. "Gotta do what I can ta stay alive in the rookery, ya know?"

Ciel nodded. "Yeah," he said. Then to himself: "'e doesn' look like much, though…"

"What was that?"

"Nothin'."

Footsteps plunking their way up the old stairs to the door. "Ciel?" Angela's voice floated up, "Finny? Wha' was that noise jus' now?"

Ciel waved his hands wildly at Finny, mouthing the words '_Hurry up!_'. Panicked, Finny shoved the window open so violently the entire window shutter came unhinged from the frame; it broke off with a horrible screech and clangled to the ground, where the glass shattered and burst out of the metal frame. Ciel threw himself across the room at the door and locked it just as he heard Angela come to a stop on the other side of the door.

The door rattled and a sharp knock sounded through the door. "Ciel? Open this door this instant! Somethin' fell! Let me in!"

Ciel pressed himself up against the door. His heart was racing, his breathing was so shallow he was surprised he wasn't hyperventilating yet. He watched in horror as Finny carefully squeezed through the window and sat in the ledge. Then, without any hesitation, he pushed himself off the ledge and out of sight.

Ciel's jaw dropped in terror at the idea of it: he had to jump out a window and fall two stories to the ground! He had barely made it falling one story when he had run away from the Undertaker's place when this had all started! Another rap at the door snapped him back to the moment, followed by a more violent shaking of the door. "Ciel Phantomhive! Open this bloody door!"

He decided to risk it. When Angela saw what Finny had done to her window, neither of them would be seeing daylight until Sebastian was long dead and buried. She'd taken care of Ciel when he needed a place to stay, but she wasn't that nice. The boy dashed across the room, heart pounding in his throat, and leaped up to the window ledge. Pulling himself out through the window, he barely knew what was happening before it was too late. Ciel was falling through the air headfirst towards the concrete sidewalk. He was too scared to scream, but he was sure his heart stopped for a few seconds before he felt arms snatching him out of the air and setting him upright on the ground.

Ciel slowly opened his eyes. Finny was standing there, face flushed from the fright of the younger boy's fall. Then the door to the shop began to open, and the two boys were off like mice from a cat. "Ciel! Get back here!" the boy heard Angela shout as he turned onto another street, "You'll be sorry ya went there! There's nothin' fer yew two a' tha Yard! Jus' yer own cozy cell in tha trib fer ya!"

Finny called over his shoulder. "Where we goin', Ciel?"

"Jus' where she says we are," Ciel said, "Ta the jail!"

With Angela's snippy shouts quickly fading behind them, the boys ran down the streets as fast as their legs could carry them. Time was running out—judging by the seriousness and publicity of the cases, Sebstian would be brought before the court in a matter of days, if that. And the only people who knew of his innocence were two young boys on the run from the Scotland Yard. Ciel led Finny around a corner and into the back door of a familiar shop, shouting, "Undertaker! We've gotta talk ta ya!"

The Undertaker poked his head around the door from the front room of the shop. "Oh? Did you not go with Grell?"

Finny shook his head violently. "Merlyn told me ta stay with Ciel, sir! Merlyn, Bard, an' Grell went ta get the duke outta jail earlier this morning!"

The Undertaker tapped his long bony fingers together slowly. He frowned. "This morning, you say? They should have been back by now, then. Or I should have heard something."

"Tha's why we came 'ere," Ciel explained, "See if ya know something."

The Undertaker thought for a moment, then tugged his ratty top hat lower around his hidden eyes. "I haven't seen Grell since last night, when he came back from taking you all to Angela's. He was pretty worked up, he said it was about Angela and a rosary or something of the sort. Then he left again, saying something about helping out the duke."

Ciel rocked back and forth on his heels. "Tha's the last ya saw him?"

The Undertaker nodded. "Sorry, can't help you here. You might do better to go to the source—Newgate Prison. That's where I heard Grell say he had gone."

Finny nodded again and grabbed Ciel by the sleeve. "Thankya, Undertaker!" he said as he dragged Ciel out the door. The two of them were on their feet running once again as soon as they stepped outside.

"So we're goin' ta Newgate?" Ciel called out to Finny.

"Yeah."

"Dodgy place, wouldn't ya think?!"

"Yeah."

"Why aren't ya talkin' much?"

"Since runnin' and talkin' don't mix too well."

"Right."

The prison was a long way away from the East End, in a completely different area of London. The boys ran up behind a coach and jumped on the back, hanging on for dear life as it lurched away from its resting spot and sped along to, they hoped, central London. They waited and waited for what felt like hours on the back of the bumpy carriage before the coachman caught them and chased them off the street. "Blooming beggars!" he shouted after them, "Go filth up some other coach!"

Finny, trembling from their encounter with the coachman, shakily sat down against a wall and balled himself up. Ciel crouched next to him. "Aw, don' tell me yer scared."

Finny shook his head. "No, no, no, I'm not scared! I'm older than you, Ciel, how can ya think I'd be more scared than you?!"

"So you _are_ scared." Finny was silent. "'s not like you're goin' ta Newgate ta get turned in yerself."

"Though you might find it safer in there than out 'ere."

The voice behind Ciel made his blood freeze. His heart missed a few beats. Surely, he had heard wrong—it couldn't be him, not a chance in the world. The Yard couldn't find him, so there was no way he could have found the two boys in this huge city. No way.

The man grabbed a fistful of Ciel's shimmering black hair and pulled him up to standing. He leaned his face down next to Ciel's, grinning savagely. "Finally found ya, eh?" Charles Hammond sneered, "You gonna apologize for turning me in?"

Ciel opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to scream out for help. His throat was closed up with fright, he couldn't make a sound.

Finny tried to shout out to the street that they were in trouble, but Hammond kicked him in the side before he could do so much as yelp. "Oh no, you're not getting away this time, boy," he spat at the blonde boy, "Pikin' off on me like that, runnin' away when ya saw the officers turn up!"

The man smelled heavily of tobacco and grease and urine. It made Ciel gag; where had Hammond been hiding out all this time so that the Yard couldn't find him? The stink gave the impression that he had been hiding out in the sewers. The thought made Ciel nauseous. Hammond tugged him away towards the back entrance to the alley. "N-no, st-sto—" Ciel protested, but Hammond clamped a heavy hand over his mouth.

"You're not going anywhere, how many times must I say it?!" he hissed. His eyes were wild; he had truly lost his mind. "It's your fault I was run out of there, you and that duke! Because you two ratted me out ta the police, I'm on tha run now!"

_Aren't we all?_ Ciel thought, narrowing his eyes at Hammond with a feeble attempt at rebellion. The man yanked at his hair again, causing Ciel to yelp.

"Give 'im back!" Finny charged haphazardly into Hammond, swinging a fist at him. Hammond ducked and took his hand away from Ciel's mouth, pulling out a revolver. He aimed it first at Finny, then pressed the barrel against Ciel's neck. Panicked, Finny stepped back and threw up his hands. He was standing awkwardly—he must have still been hurting from the punch earlier.

"Make one move an' I kill the boy right here, Finnian. Got it?"

Finny stared in horror and said, "…yes, sir."

"Good ta know we're on tha same page," Hammond said, "Now, you two're gonna come with me. You're hostages 'till I get the Yard ta let me go free. Come on!" He dragged Ciel farther down the alley, and motioned for Finny to follow. "Not too fast, now," he said, "Or I fire on tha kid."

Finny slowly stepped forward after Hammond, never taking his eyes off Ciel and the gun for a second. Ciel was sweating, shaking uncontrollably. He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die! Never would he be able to prove Sebastian's innocence, and he would die as well! And Finny, too, once Hammond had shot him! They were all doomed! He wasn't seeing straight at this point, his vision had blurred, whether it was from tears or from nerves he was not sure. He couldn't feel his feet any longer, pain was shooting down from his scalp where Hammond had grasped his hair. _I'm gonna die… I'm gonna die… Sebastian…_

Finny's light blue eyes doubled in size, glancing past Ciel for a moment. He stretched out his hand, forming a word as he suddenly jumped for the boy. "Cie—!"

A single shot rang out in the alley.

**...wow. Crazy cliffhanger! By the way, if the slang was lost to anyone, "trib" means "jail", "chates" means "gallows" (from the last chapter), "pike off" means "to run away", and "pat" means "accomplice" (from the last chapter), "pattered" means "tried in court" (from the last chapter). Geez, I can't get over this cliffhanger... come back March 12 to find out what happened!**


	24. Chapter 23

**Happy Friday and happy weekend! So this is me being productive while waiting for my iPod to update - I'm posting another chapter! I swear, every time I open iTunes there's a new, shiny update waiting for me. No, I don't own Apple - I never would've let something like an oversized iPod Touch hit stores if I did :P**

**Last time there was a pretty shocking ending! Everyone ready to find out what happens next?! Read on!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel stared up at the sliver of blue sky visible between the buildings, completely still. His hair was slowly being darkened by the blood spreading across the alley, but he did not move a muscle. Finny was kneeling on the ground, balancing on a hand and completely frozen. The shock in his eyes mirrored Ciel's own. The entire scene was silent for a moment.

"Ciel!" Finny screeched, scrambling over to where the boy was pinned down by Hammond's corpse, "Ciel!"

Ciel was still not reacting to anything. Though once Finny heaved Hammond's heavy arm off of him and scooped him up, he realized he was shaking like a carriage on the cobblestones out in the street. Finny sat him down against the wall of the alley.

"You two okay, over there?" a woman asked, walking over. She twirled a revolver in her hand.

Finny stood protectively in front of Ciel. "I don' want any trouble," he said, "Go away! Scare some other kid!"

"And where would the two of you be if I hadn't shot 'im?" the woman responded without batting an eye. "You two need help?"

Ciel coughed, lightly at first, but was soon doubled over in a fit. Finny was at his side in an instant. "Ciel, wha's wrong? It's fine, that bastard Hammond's dead, we're safe!"

"You bet your lucky stars you are," the woman interrupted, stooping down on Ciel's other side. When Finny tensed up, she added, "Don't worry, boy, I'm a doctor."

Ciel finally got a good look at the woman's face. She was striking, blood red eyes sitting in stark contrast to her pale skin. Vivid red hair cut in a smart, medium length style fell out from under a red hat decorated by a white plume. The woman's dress was red as well. "…red…?"

The woman smiled. "I'm known as something of the sort, yes. The name's Angelina Durless, but call me Madame Red." She lifted Ciel's wrist, checked his pulse with her finger, looked at his face then continued, "You seem to be alright—you're just getting over the shock."

Ciel nodded and hurried to his feet. "Thanks, ma'am."

Madame Red stood up, too. She looked down her nose at the corpse and grimaced. "Ugh, did you know this man? You better be thankful I wandered by 'ere—he wouldn't be the one bleedin' and dead on the ground if I hadn't, let me just say that."

Finny shuddered. "'e was Charles Hammond, tha police ran 'im outta 'is brothel a month ago or somethin'."

Madame Red's jaw dropped. "Really? Hammond? I've heard a few things about that man, down at the hospital. The gossip you pick up there!"

Finny glanced over his shoulder. A small crowd was forming at the alley entrance, in reaction to the gunshot. Some were already calling for police. "We better get outta 'ere."

"Right. This way!" Madame Red took Ciel by the hand and ran off down the alley, Finny right at his heels. She had a strong grip, Ciel noticed.

The three of them darted around a few corners of the maze of alleys and back streets before Madame Red paused for a breath. "Don't believe I've gotten your names, am I right?"

Ciel stood up straight and introduced himself. "Ciel Phantomhive, and this 'ere is my friend Finny."

Madame Red smiled and nodded. "Pleased to meet you, Ciel and Finny. Now, you going anywhere?"

Ciel started to answer, but Finny cut him off. The lady laughed. "It's alright, you don't need to be afraid of me. Quite honestly, I'm not one for the Yard myself. Plus," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "maybe I can help you find your way?"

"We're goin' ta Newgate Prison!" Ciel blurted out before Finny could stop him again.

"Ciel!" Finny hissed.

Madame Red raised an eyebrow. "Newgate? What was the point of me saving you back there if you're just going to end up there?"

"We're not criminals!" the younger boy said, indignant, "We're goin' ta find Duke Michaelis!"

Madame Red's eyebrows skyrocketed up her forehead. "Oh, this is interesting," she said, "You see, I'm an acquaintance of the duke."

"R-really?" Ciel spluttered, unable to believe his luck, "Ya think ya can help us out?!"

The lady shrugged. "Depends. What'd the man get thrown in prison for?"

"'e's been framed!" Ciel cried, "'e'll be sent ta the chates if we don't get there soon!"

Madame Red tapped her chin. "So you think you'll be able to break him out and prove his innocence?" Ciel explained to her their reasoning in brief. She smiled and lifted her nose into the air. "Oh, that sounds exciting. The duke is a friend of mine, I can help him out. And if worst comes to worst, I'm a socialite and member of high society! I can whittle a little mercy out of the guards with a few pounds."

Finny stepped back into the conversation. "So will you lead us there, ma'am? We're racin' against time 'ere."

"Follow me!" the red woman proclaimed, sweeping around and dashing off down the street. The two boys followed until they arrived at her carriage. They climbed in and Madame Red directed the driver to Newgate Prison. The ride was silent, with Ciel staring at the floor the entire time and Finny casting wary looks over at Madame Red. Could they really trust her?

The carriage bumped and clattered down the street out into the busy plazas of downtown London. Ciel sat hunched over in his seat. He didn't know where they were until the carriage came to an abrupt halt, startling him out of his trance. Finny tapped his shoulder. "Hey, Ciel?" he said, "We're 'ere."

Madame Red stepped down from the carriage with the driver's help; the man did not so much as glance at Ciel or Finny as they clambered down to the street. Ciel looked around until Madame Red pointed across the street at a huge stone wall embedded with a wrought-iron gate. "Is tha' it, ma'am?"

The red woman nodded with another smile. "This is it, Ciel. Newgate Prison."

Ciel gazed up at the expanse of stone stretching out the entire block. Inside those walls was Sebastian, awaiting his trial and sentence. Ciel would find him, prove his innocence to the judge. He would save his life! Then he would never be treated like a toy again—Sebastian would be indebted to him. This was the chance of a lifetime, to finally be in control of something. Even if that something was another person's life. Somewhere in the sunny plazas of London, Big Ben chimed midday.

**The clock is ticking (haha pun)! Will Ciel be able to reach Sebastian in time? You'll have to wait another week to find out! Ah, I'm taking the SAT tomorrow _ wish me luck, god knows I'll need it! But after it's over, I get my life back! No more prep classes! Woohoo! Oh right, update date: March 19!**


	25. Chapter 24

**Another week, another chapter! And so begins my weekend of term paper writing, hooray! Sarcasm, of course... -_-;**

**Uwaa I forgot to mention last week how excited I am for Madame Red to be in this story! She's awesome and I'm so pleased I found a use for her character here! Who read the newest chapter?! Can't wait for the next one, I need my SebbyxCiel again!**

**Alright, to the chapter, shall we?**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

"Stay by my side, I'll handle them," Madame Red cautioned as she gently pushed Ciel and Finny behind her. The three of them approached the guards standing at attention on either side of the front gates. Ciel stared at the ground and tried not to look at the guards' guns at their sides.

"Morning, ma'am," one of the men greeted the Madame as they reached the gate, "Can I help ya wit something?"

"Actually, yes you can," she leisurely swung herself into a façade, "You see, I am here to visit my chef. He's here—debt, you see."

The guard looked down his long nose at Ciel, who was grasping at Madame Red's wrist. He looked Finny over as well. "Who are they?"

Madame Red smiled in stride. "Oh, these boys? They are my chef's sons, I'm taking care of them until their father can return. They've been looking forward to seeing their father."

The guard glanced across the gate at his companion. The man shook his head. "I don't think it's best for them to see their father until he is released," he called over.

Madame Red blinked. "What's that you say?"

"'s whot I just said," the far guard said, "Goin' in and visiting their father might not be the best fer them. 'e could be sick, er worse."

Madame Red stamped up to the guard and shook her finger in his face. "Don't you dare suggest such a violent thing in front of these boys! They want to see their father and by God, I'll have them see their father! Let us in."

The guard shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am."

Madame Red stepped back and took a deep breath. She smoothed out her skirts and adjusted her hat. Going back over to the first guard, she took out a purse—also red—and pulled out a tight roll of bank notes. Ciel craned his neck ever so slightly to see the amount, but only got a glimpse of three digit spaces. Getting into Newgate was apparently rather pricy. Good to know.

The guard glanced down at the notes, looked around the street, and upon his companion's approving nod stuffed them into his coat pocket. "One moment please," he said as the two guards knocked on the great wooden doors. They slowly opened inwards with an ominous creak. The first guard walked back to the group of visitors and swept his hand to the entrance. "Enjoy your stay," he said with a sarcasm that made Ciel's stomach flip.

The group walked past the guards and into the front yard area. Ciel's mouth dropped open at what he saw; he had been luckier than he knew to have places to stay with Angela and the Undertaker.

The people out in the yard were in shambles. They wore tattered rags, smeared with dirt and filth, and Ciel could see the sharp outlines of their bones from hunger. He looked down at the ground and grabbed Madame Red's arm again. Finny averted his eyes as well. The East End was like this in places, but at least there you could go where you liked. These people were just cooped up like chickens.

A half-starved young woman limped over to them, holding out her hands. Ciel could see that, despite the desperate hunger, she had been beautiful once. But beauty never stayed long in London, especially when you never knew where your next meal was coming from. "'ello, miss, d'ya 'ave anythin' ta spare a starvin' wretch loike me?" she croaked out.

Madame Red kept her eyes fixated on the door to the prison and said nothing. More people began to flock around them as they walked toward the door.

"Some coin fer me family? We're hungry!"

"Please! Me mum's sick!"

"Jus' somethin' extra fer me ta pay me debts!"

Madame Red fought through the mob, grabbing hold of Ciel and Finny to make sure they did not get separated. Two prison officers arrived on the scene and blew their whistles. The people quickly left and went about their business.

One of the officers shook Madame Red's hand. "How d'ya do, ma'am? Can I help ya with something?"

"I'm here to visit an acquaintance for my sister, Sebastian Michaelis. Could you show us to his cell, if you would be so kind?"

The officer looked down at the two boys with a sniff. "And these two?"

The lady gave Ciel a squeeze. "My nephews. My sister is ill, you see, and I've been charged with escorting them today."

The officer jumped with a look of surprise. "Michaelis? Nay, sorry, but you can't see 'im. No one's allowed ta see him, Queen's orders."

Another flash of bank notes and the officer was all ears. "You say ya want ta see the duke?"

Madame Red nodded and smiled coyly. "That would be excellent. Thank you, officer." The man led them into the prison and down the long, dank hallway past so many doors the corridor seemed endless.

Finny suddenly stopped and looked into the window of a cell door. Ciel made to stop and join him, but he whispered, "Go on, Ciel, I'll catch right up. Jus' gotta see something."

Confused, the boy obeyed and continued with the two oblivious adults. He didn't give Finny's strange behavior much thought—he said he'd catch up later, after all. The remaining group walked down the hallway and up a flight of dimly lit stairs to a smaller corridor. It smelled less up here. _Must be where the rich canaries are_.

The officer took a ring of keys off its latch by the corridor's entrance and twirled them around his finger. He whistled a cheery tune as he led them down the eerie hallway. The song was familiar to Ciel; he sung along in his head:

_London Bridge is falling down_

_Falling down, falling down_

_London Bridge is falling down_

_My fair lady_

At last, they came to a door and the officer stopped. He jangled around with the keys and tried a few before opening the door with a squeak. There wasn't much light in the room beyond, and a dim light faintly spread itself across the corridor. The officer ushered the two of them inside. "Quickly, quickly," he hissed, "Where's the third one?"

Madame Red looked behind her. "He's gone? Oh dear, better go find him."

The officer shook his head. "Like I'm goin' ta do that on my own time. Unless, 'o course, ya pay up."

The woman shrugged. "No skin off my nose if he gets caught and you are exposed for taking a bribe."

"I—" the officer fumed. Ciel couldn't remember the last time he had seen someone's face turn purple, but this was definitely one of those rare instances.

The man stormed off without a word. Madame Red waved him goodbye. "Now," she said, strutting into the cell, "We have business to attend to. Hello, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked up from his cheap iron frame bed. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he seemed to be managing alright for the circumstances. "Well, well, Angelina Durless. Imagine you coming here to see me." He did not bother to get up and greet her properly, Ciel noticed. Where these two really friends?

"Please, call me Madame Red. It's become more commonly used than my actual name, I guess you could say."

"What are you doing here? And why did you bring Ciel?" he asked sharply, boring right through the boy with a harsh look. "He should not have come here."

"Sebastian, I'm—!"

"Did you come alone? Imagine what could have happened if Angelina had not found you!"

Ciel stamped his foot. "Finny's 'ere, too! 'e ran off somewhere in the jail, found somethin' in a cell. Stop treatin' me like a child!"

"I will until you begin to act more maturely."

"Then what about the dance—" Ciel hushed up when he remembered Madame Red was there, too. If word got out about the kiss, Sebastian would be on death row for more than just serial murder.

Madame Red looked from Sebastian to Ciel, then back to Sebastian again. Finally, she heaved a sigh and clapped her hands together. "Right, now that this happy little reunion is over, on to the next step: escape."

**Historical notes! Newgate Prison was the oldest and one of the largest prisons in 18th century England. It was a prison for convicts and for people awaiting execution or trial, but it also acted as a debtor's prison (where people would go if they could not pay their debts - there were A LOT of people in this situation!). It was extremely dirty, and people had to pay fees for everything if they wanted to have any basic necessities like clothes and bedding. They also had to pay when they were admitted and when they were released. As you could imagine, especially for people who could not pay off their debts to begin with, Newgate Prison was a pretty terrible place.**

**Ah, so cheerful. But now Ciel has found Sebastian! What will they do to escape? Where's Finny? Come back March 26, the day after my birthday, for the next chapter! ^_^**


	26. Chapter 25

**Good morning, readers! Spring break's here, and you know what that means? I'll finally really finish writing this story! Wahoo! Oh, and there's the fact that I'll be in Japan in a day... yeah, I'm pumped. Oh, and did I mention my birthday was yesterday? It was super.**

**Long chapter this week! From here on out, I'm guesstimating the chapters will be about this long, maaaybe a tad shorter. Prepare yourselves, it's pretty epic!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel fidgeted uncomfortably on the floor as he watched Madame Red and Sebastian converse quietly on the other side of the room. They were discussing their means of escape, but the boy couldn't help but wonder if that was the only topic of conversation between them. Their expressions were so grim, their whispering so earnest, Ciel wished he could hear what they were saying. Maybe it could give him clues about the murderer? But Madame Red knew nothing about the case, because she had been surprised when Ciel and Finny had told her about it. there was no new information to be had here.

Ciel stood up and cleared his throat. "Uh-_hm_."

Sebastian's gaze swung over to Ciel. The boy resisted the urge to shrink away where he stood; had he upset him again? "Yes, Ciel?"

The boy took a deep breath, trying his hardest to get over his damned cant. "Sebastian, when're we getting out of here? You can't be here too long before they come ta—_to—_check on you an' we get caught."

"Right you are," Madame Red stood up again and smoothed her skirts out.

Sebastian merely smiled. "Will you look at that? The boy's getting some common sense."

"Always had more than you'd hope to," Ciel grumbled.

Sebastian was suddenly at his side, leaning over and whispering in his ear. "Oh, you would be pleasantly surprised," he hissed seductively.

Ciel caught his breath and stiffened at the quiet sound in his ear. But then he blinked, and it was as if the moment had never happened.

"Now how will we be finding Finnian?" Madame Red said, bringing a hazy-minded Ciel back to the present, "He disappeared just before we entered the area for condemned criminals, is that right Ciel?"

The boy's eyes lit up like an ambushed rabbit. He shook himself. "Wha? Oh, yeah," Ciel spluttered, "Right before we came up 'ere."

The woman waggled her finger in the air and paced around the cell. "Alright, so he is nearby. I'm assuming he is still near the cell he found, if not inside. We should be able to find it if Ciel here leads us to retrace our steps. Correct?" she finished, setting her arms akimbo and staring at Ciel expectantly.

Ciel shuffled around in a slow circle. "Yeah, I think I can tell ya where he went."

"Good. Now, let us begin," Madame Red led the way out the cell door with an extravagant swish of her blood red dress. Ciel made to exit next, but felt a hand at the small of his back gently pushing him out the door.

"A common boy must not block a duke's way," Sebastian teased, brushing past him. Ciel should have been irritated, but the malice he so often found in the duke's voice was barely there. Just a joking sarcasm.

Ciel led the nobles down the dank corridor towards the stairs. He was aware of every sound his shoes made on the dirty floor, every sound made him jump. If they were caught helping a condemned criminal break out of jail, it would be all hell to pay. He tried his hardest to remember where Finny had left them for whoever or whatever was in that jail cell. It was down this corridor, around that corner, and…

"I think this's it," Ciel stopped at the beginning of a corridor on the ground floor.

Madame Red looked around and nodded. "Good work, Ciel," she praised him, "If only I had children as intelligent as you. Now, we will have to check all the cells in this hallway until we find something of use."

"I do not think there will be a need for that," Sebastian said smoothly, raising a finger to point at a cell farther down the hall, "I think that answers all our questions."

Madame Red and Ciel followed Sebastian's finger to the cell he was referencing. Sure enough, the door was ajar. Ciel made to see what was inside, but Sebastian's dark figure swooped around him and beat him to it.

Sebastian leaned forward to look inside the cell, then stepped inside. Ciel and the Madame followed suit. The cell was abandoned, the lock broken. "Someone must have a similar idea to us," Madame Red mused, walking around the tiny cell.

"Apparently so," the duke watched over the scene. He turned to Ciel. "Ciel, how about you assist us in discovering how long ago these people left and how many there were."

Without a word, Ciel set to work. This was the kind of thing he was good at, the Undertaker had taught him well in the ways of basic forensics. He carefully looked at the floor for footprints in the dust, for marks where people had sat down. He searched for scraps of clothing and hair. At last, he turned to Sebastian with a smug look on his face. "I've got it."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Ciel held up a strand of long red hair. "This hair. It's red as blood."

"It's not mine, the stand is too long," Madame Red added, "Most likely the escaped prisoner's."

"Even better, I know who this is," Ciel continued, "'s Grell, 'e's a… good friend of the Undertaker."

Sebastian folded his arms and delicately tapped his fingers on his arm. "How do you know he was here?"

"Grell took Bard an' Merlyn to Newgate to try ta break you outta here," Ciel explained, keeping his tone even and matter-of-fact, "Must've gotten caught."

Madame Red looked around the cell again from where she stood beside Ciel. "So was Finny here?"

Ciel nodded. "Yeah, that's his hairpin." He picked up a red barrette from the floor and held it up. Finny always wore five of them in his blond hair—he said it helped keep his bangs out of his eyes.

Sebastian took the barrette and examined it. He sniffed it once, and slid it into his pocket. Turning to leave, he said, "Come. I can lead you to them."

Madame Red was right behind him. "What? How could you possibly know where they are? You'll be caught and your trial will come even sooner—"

The duke turned his head to stare down the woman, crimson eyes flashing. "I will be quite alright, Madame," he said darkly, "Come, Ciel. We must find them. He tapped the lady on the forhead once, and she shook so violently Ciel was sure she was about to fall over in a seizure. But she did not fall; in fact, her feet stayed rooted to the spot. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"That is more like it," Sebastian smiled. He grabbed Ciel by the hand and they flew down the hallway, the boy still dumbfounded at what had just happened.

When he came to his senses, Ciel spluttered, "D-didja jus' _hex_ her?!"

Sebastian put a gloved finger to his lips. "My, my, such wicked words," he teased, "She was a nuisance and needed to be gotten rid of for now."

Ciel decided not to question the matter further, for fear of uncovering any more unpleasant quirks around the duke. The practice of black magic had never sat well with the boy. He allowed himself to be led through the prison and tugged down corridors at lightening speed, not making a sound. As a matter of fact, they did not make a sound at all as they sped along through the prison. Ciel wanted to believe his feet were on the ground, but had the sneaking suspicion that he was, indeed, being pulled along through the air. Whatever the duke had been hiding from him until this point, he was obviously not bothering to cover it up now.

The boy heard a voice up ahead, a man. "H-hey, what're ya doing outta your cell?! You—"

A squishing sound cut the voice short, and Ciel suddenly felt something warm dash across his cheek. He forced his hand against his speed and reached up to touch it. Drawing his fingers away, he could see that it was blood. His gut wrenched at the idea of what Sebastian had just done.

The hallways gradually became less and less of a blur as Sebastian finally began to slow down. He set Ciel on his feet and glanced around. "We are almost there," he said evenly.

Ciel made no comment, just rubbed the blood off his cheeks.

"Ciel? Is that you?"

Ciel looked around to see Merlyn running down the hallway towards them. She was waving, her figure switching from light to dark to light again as she passed the barred windows in the corridor.

"Merlyn! Are you okay?" Ciel returned as the maid swept him up in a hug.

She squeezed him close, saying, "Everyone's alright, they're not far behind me." She proceeded to recount the story of their attempt to break Sebastian out: "We snuck in here, but Grell got us captured rather fast. We tried to get out of there, but Grell couldn't get us out. Finny found us and broke the lock, and we've been on the run ever since. Grell led us here and said you'd be here. Now here you are!"

Ciel nodded to show he understood, but something about Merlyn's story didn't quite fit: why hadn't Grell simply used his death god powers in a way Bard and Merlyn wouldn't notice so they could break out? Grell was extremely flamboyant about his physical abilities, but when it came to actual powers he was quieter about using them. But even so, wouldn't he be able to use them in an emergency? The only reason for him to avoid using his powers would be that something stronger than him was in the area. What was that supposed to mean?

Bard, Finny, and Grell arrived soon after. Ciel noticed a quick glance in Sebastian's direction from Grell, but thought no more of it.

"If everyone is assembled, we will go," Sebastian said. He led the way out a door leading to the outside, effortlessly skewering the guard outside with a dinner knife. Ciel stepped over the fallen man without emotion; if he were to live on the run, he would have to grow used to seeing sights such as these again. He had been off the streets of East End far too long.

"We must make haste," Sebastian said over his shoulder, "I am suspicious that someone has been watching my actions ever since I stepped into this prison."

Ciel looked around, scanning the small exercise area they had exited into. There were groups of sad, hideous inmates clothed in rags and surrounded by flies, but no one seemed to be watching them. The group kept to the far wall, almost completely out of sight from the guard. Sebastian broke the lock of a heavy iron side door and they all filed out, keeping low to the ground.

They broke into a mad run as soon as the last person, Finny, was out. Grell kept up with Sebastian relatively easily. "Looks like you could've just walked out of there at any time you wanted."

Sebastian shook his head. "This is a risk, even for someone like me. I am powerful enough to get out of there, but it is what awaits me on this side of those walls that caused my hesitation."

"Could that hesitation be caused by me, perhaps?" Charles Grey asked, feigning curiosity as he stepped out into the late afternoon sun from around a corner.

**And the tension builds, only to shatter next week...?! I'll be traveling next Friday, but I will still post the chapter! It's getting too good to skip a week ^_^ Next chapter on April 2!**


	27. Chapter 26

**Hel-lo everyone from Tokyo~! So I'm having the time of my life, but of course this weekly update can't be missed! This chapter is pretty action-packed, I must say. Allow me to forewarn you about gore and Sebby awesomeness :P**

**Shall we?**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

"Earl Charles Grey," Sebastian hissed, "So nice to see you."

Charles sauntered out onto the street. Ciel looked around—that was odd. The late afternoon, when most people in London were bustling about trying to get their last few errands of the day done, and there was not a single person or carriage in sight. "I am glad I managed to meet you as well, Duke Michaelis. We have not seen each other since the Viscount's ball, it's rather disappointing of me to not extend an invitation."

A thin shadow brushed over Ciel as Sebastian repositioned himself to stand in front of him. "I'm sorry, but I have been rather busy these past few weeks."

Charles clicked his tongue. "Tut, tut, you can't manage an audience for anyone, not even a direct assistant to Her Majesty?"

The duke shook his head. "My apologies," he said, voice laced with sarcasm.

The earl came to a stop a few feet from the gathering of runaways. "Even after all this time, you couldn't make time for anyone else but that _boy._" Ciel cringed at the earl's reference; he said it like it was a bug that had just flown into his mouth, spitting it out in disgust.

Sebastian maintained a calm exterior, but the boy could sense such a terrifying murderous intent from him that he almost regretted coming here. "My priorities have been changed a tad in recent weeks," he admitted.

Charles swept his arm around, taking in the scene. "What do you think now is? I went through all this trouble to meet with you, even sealing off this part of London just for us. And you bring _them_." He sniffed and turned up his nose. "Ah, but this is just as well," he shrugged, turning his palms up, "I can take care of them along with you. Killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. Or rather," his grey eyes lit up, and he slowly reached for his sword, "Six birds."

They both moved at once. Ciel was thrown back by a hand and rammed into Finny and Grell behind him. They skidded across the cobblestones and came to a stop some ten yards away. Ciel clenched his teeth and tried to keep himself from crying out at the pain in his leg and his chest. He could feel a large wound beginning to bleed out of his left leg. It was so painful, so painful, he couldn't breathe! The sky above was spinning, he couldn't think straight, all he knew was that he was in extreme danger.

Finny dragged himself up and propped himself up on his elbows. He gasped when he saw the younger boy. "Ciel! Oh bloody 'ell, Ciel!" he cried, crawling over to him and cupping his hand behind the boy's head for support. Thankfully, he had not suffered a head injury. "Ciel! Say something, are you alright?"

Ciel shut his eyes tight and opened them again, slowly. The world gradually stopped spinning and he could see Finny's worried face above his. "…Finny? You okay?"

Finny shook his head up and down, barrettes bobbing. "Yeah, I'm alright. But you! You've gotta get that—"

"Is everyun' else okay?"

"Wha? Yeah, everyone's okay, Merlyn twisted 'er ankle, but she's alright other than that. Ciel, we gotta get away, Sebastian's fightin'—"

Ciel pushed Finny away from him and sat up. His leg seared with pain, but his horror at the scene before him was enough to match it and overpower it for a moment. Sebastian and Charles were fighting. Not fighting like the coves over in East End, or even the ones in the gambling wrestling matches; this was something unreal. Both men were moving at lightening speed, blurs of black and white colliding, then separating again in rapid succession. Ciel made to get up, but Finny gently pushed him back down. "Ya know jus' as well as me that ya can't go anywhere with that leg," Finny chided, nodding at the boy's leg. It was really bleeding at this point. Ciel was starting to feel sick.

Grell bent over to take a look at the wound. He gave a low whistle. "My, my, Ci-ci, you've really gotten yourself in over your head this time." He shrugged off his bright red coat and pressed it against Ciel's gash, slowing the blood flow. "I don't know much about medicine, you'll need to get help," he said to Finny, "Take Merlyn and Bard with you—they can't be here, it's too dangerous."

"Right! I'll go find someun!" Finny turned and ran off to find anyone nearby who could help them. Merlyn and Bard followed him.

"Death gods don't need to worry about injuries like this," Grell grinned, pushing his glasses up his nose, "They heal too quickly."

"Great," Ciel forced out between clenched teeth, "'ow 'elpful is that supposed ta be? I'm not a death god."

"Oh, you should consider it," Grell joked, "It's quite the convenient way to live."

Ciel winced and cried out in pain. He grabbed his leg and lay down on his side. "Ah! That hurts, stop it!"

Grell shook his head. "You want me to stop, I will. Then don't blame me when you bleed to death." Ciel fell silent, and watched the horrible fight to distract himself.

Charles had wings. Like the rest of his attire and appearance, the wings were pure snow white, and large as his entire body. He bounced back from another hit at Sebastian and alighted on an abandoned street peddler's cart. He slashed his foil across his chest, pointing it at Sebastian. "You've hidden long enough, Sebastian Michaelis! It is time for your judgment!"

Sebastian stood up from his hunched over posture and glowered up at the frightening creature. "I am not in the mood to fight, angel. You will regret it if you pursue this any further."

Ciel wasn't seeing straight; first Charles had wings, now Sebastian, too? A pair of huge black wings extended from his back, a duke completely in black save for his pale skin and burning red eyes. The sight was terrible, frightening. Ciel gagged. "Ci-ci, you going to be sick?" Grell asked.

Whether from blood loss or from terror, Ciel retched onto the street. Grell set about cleaning him up with the part of the coat that had not yet been covered in blood. "You can be such a child sometimes." The boy was too dazed to respond, he only lay there trying not to pass out.

The earl twirled his sword in his grip. "I am disappointed in you, Duke. A demon of your stature should never succumb to the need for souls so easily—killing young women to suck their souls dry, how very repulsive."

"I think you know quite well that I am not the culprit, Earl. I have never given in to my thirst for human souls whilst in the human world unless it is necessary."

Charles furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at Sebastian. "Not in the mood to fight? Are you lacking motivation?"

Sebastian flapped his wings once, shooting into the air. "Depends. Are you offering a wager of some kind?"

Charles smiled sweetly at him. "An angel must not make deals with demons, I would think you know that," he chastised him like a snooty older classmate, "No, I have something else in mind. Much more interesting than simply placing bets. I prefer a much more… _straightforward_ approach, if you will."

Suddenly, he dived from his perch. It happened in a matter of seconds: Charles swooping down towards Ciel, Grell stretching himself across the boy in protection, a spray of red. Ciel's scream.

The scene was only still for a split second, then another whirlwind of black and white as angel and demon attacked each other again, Sebastian this time uttering a terrible, unearthly shriek from within the fray. Ciel was curled up on the ground, screaming in pain. "M-my eye! _My eye!_" His leg was bleeding, and now his right eye was spurting blood and fluid. He wouldn't survive this, it was impossible. He would bleed to death right here. Grell was beside him, shaking from the deep wound Charles had made in his back.

Sebastian slashed at Charles with a claw. A thin stream of blood came away with it. Charles smirked, wiping the blood away and licking it off his fingers. "You've got some fight in you after all."

Sebastian made no reply and attacked again, and again. Charles blocked with his sword, but the demon had been provoked a hair too far. He reached out and grabbed the sword's blade, twisting it out of the angel's hand. Charles screamed as Sebastian sliced the blade along his wings, severing one completely. Feathers spattered with blood flew everywhere. Sebastian sneered and raised the blade again, his red eyes completely crazed. "I am no one to be trifled with," he rasped out as he brought the sword down. Charles gaped in horror at his own blade as it descended toward him. It pierced his forehead and rammed all the way through his brain to come out the other side of his skull.

Charles Grey fell to the ground, dead. Without missing a beat, Sebastian swept over to Ciel and Grell. His wings folded and disappeared, scattering a small cloud of ink black feathers. "Are you both alright?" he asked, his voice returning to normal, but still holding traces of that terrible monster that had just brutally murdered someone.

Grell sat up. "I'm going to be fine, I'm already healing. But Ciel, Ciel is—"

Ciel couldn't move anymore. It was taking every ounce of strength he had just to keep his good eye open. His vision was too blurry to discern anything; everything was growing faint and blurry. He was dying.

Sebastian took one look at Ciel and, without a second thought, held up his right hand and slashed a cut into the back. He held it out to Ciel's mouth. "Drink the blood," he said, "My blood will help you survive."

Ciel gazed at the bleeding hand with a lazy and quickly blurring eye. He slowly looked up at Sebastian. All he could see of him was a smudge of black accentuated with a pair of glowing red eyes. Those eyes looked _concerned_. When Ciel lay dying, Sebastian finally showed concern for him.

Ciel parted his lips to drink the blood, but Grell pushed the hand away. "No! You know he can't drink that! He'll be cursed!" He staggered over to where the wing lay on the ground and brought it over to Ciel. "Angel's blood is healing, it'll save you!" the death god said in earnest, "Demon blood heals momentarily, but you'll be cursed!"

Ciel slowly looked from the wing to Sebastian's hand. He couldn't keep being jerked around and thinking about which one was the right one and which one was wrong. Oh, to hell with it. He nodded ever so slightly for the angel, but Sebastian pushed his hand back in his face. "Take it," he ordered, "The angel known as Charles Grey was a tainted angel. He was corrupted the moment he attacked you, an innocent bystander. Drinking his blood will not solve anything."

Why was this so complicated?! Ciel obediently drank a little of Sebastian's blood. If he was to be cursed, it couldn't be much worse than what he had experienced back on Cleveland Street. When he had finished, Sebastian picked him up and the three of them ran off in search of a doctor.

**Eeeya I've been waiting to write that scene for a while! I soo wish they would show us Sebby's true demon form, I'm sure it's awfully handsome/sexy... *cough* Ahem, so an announcement: next week will, regrettably, be the final chapter of The Undertaker's Apprentice. It's been an awesome time writing for you all, hope to see you back here on April 9 for the last chapter! Just maybe, a pair of poisoners will be revealed...?**


	28. Chapter 27

**Hello, hello, hello! My God, is it really the last chapter already?! Wow... Oh! Anyone see the trailer for the second season yet? Alois is adorable! I've been skeptical of the new season, but now I can't wait to see it ^_^**

**Well, here we are! Enjoy this last chapter!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

Ciel did not wake up until three days after his surgery, and was catatonic for another four. He did not die, however; according to Grell, he was only alive because he drank some of Sebastian's blood.

Finny came to visit him the day he could speak again, though he was still quite shaken. "I heard about what happened," Finny said as he sat down next to Ciel's bed, "Earl Grey attacked you and Duke Michaelis killed him?!"

Ciel simply nodded. Finny, and everyone who had not been there, only knew that Charles had attacked Ciel and almost killed him. Sebastian had killed him in defense. The secret of Grell and Sebastian's statuses as supernatural beings was still safe.

Finny twiddled his thumbs. "Nice eye patch," he said, smiling, "It suits you."

Ciel reached up and touched his new eye patch over his right eye. He was half blind now, the doctor Sebastian found had told him the news yesterday. His leg was also never going to completely recover; the doctor had also said he would need a cane to walk from now on. His days of being able to pickpocket his way through life were over.

"…so 'ow are you?" Finny continued, "Feelin' any better?"

"…a little."

"Can I get ya anything?"

Ciel shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Finny scratched his head. The room was silent for a few minutes. Finally, he stood up and gave a tiny salute, touching his forehead with his index finger. "Well, I'll be seeing ya later, Ciel. Hope ya feel better, sorry I can't really 'elp." He left, and Ciel was all alone. He lay back against his pillows and looked out the window at London's smoggy streets. A light snowfall was floating down into the city.

His life would be different now, probably stuck with the Undertaker forever. He would get by alright, but his life was at a standstill. There was still one thing to solve, though: the serial murders.

Ciel drifted off to sleep, but did not dream. He slipped back into consciousness when he heard a familiar voice greet him. "Wake up, Ciel. There are still matters to discuss."

He opened his eye to see the duke sitting beside him. "I was dreamin', you interrupted."

"Oh? What of?" Sebastian asked, mocking him.

Ciel sat up in bed and scowled. "I dreamed I could walk around London an' see like a regular person," he said, shooting a half hearted bullet at the duke.

He took it in stride, as always. "You can still see, you can still walk. That dream was simply a fantastical nightmare. Now," he said, "I have been researching this case for months now, and I was nearly hanged for it. Now that the court has given me time to find the true murderers, I must find them or it will be my neck to pay."

"It's not only _you_ who was lookin' into this—rememba what _I_ had ta do."

Sebastian gently brushed a few black strands of hair out of Ciel's eyes. "I know very well what you did for information, and I am still shocked that the Undertaker would go that far."

"You're lyin', you'd make me do that, too."

"And maybe I would," Sebastian said, "However, I am not going to."

Ciel stiffened at that; he was never going to do something like what he had to do at Cleveland Street again. He could not so much as handle a mentioning of what took place there; he had suppressed and ignored it for too long, and now it was all crashing down on him.

Sebastian sat back in his seat. "Moving on, we must finally figure out who the murderer is, and his accomplice."

Ciel gulped. "…Druitt?"

Sebastian shook his head. "No. He has strong motive, and he had the capacity to kill all of the girls, but Irene was a practicing Christian, Anglican to be precise. He would not have killed her."

Ciel thought hard. Who else had they suspected? Druitt had been their prime suspect, and Charles, the other person Ciel had begun to suspect, was now dead. "What about you?"

Sebastian looked up at him, eyes smiling. "You can rationalize that yourself, for I am afraid I would be biased in doing as such. I can assure you, however, that I am innocent."

"Well… I guess since you're a demon, ya don't really give a damn about religion. And ya don't go to the opera or anythin', so ya had no motive to kill Irene. Also, if ya wanted ta kill people, ya could've totally gotten rid of the evidence, bein' a demon and everything."

Sebastian nodded. "Correct, you have good deduction skills. And I am being completely honest in saying that I did not commit those murders."

"How do I know if you're lyin' ta me?"

"You drank my blood. I cannot lie to someone who has my blood in his veins."

"Grell?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Same reasons as me, and the same applies to the Undertaker. Possibly more so for the Undertaker, actually. He seems to have stronger power than Grell."

"Nina Hopkins?"

Sebastian shook his head. "The only way she would be involved in the case is if she were my accomplice. Since I am not the murderer, there is no possibility of her being my accomplice."

Ciel nodded, but he was at a loss. Finny would never, ever do anything of the sort, and Merlyn and Bard had nothing to do with any of this with no motive and no way of committing the murders. He was grasping at straws. "Angela?" he offered, going down his mental list of people he knew, "She's very religious. I could call 'er fanatical sometimes."

Sebastian tapped his chin. "Hm, could be," he started, "She has strong motive as well. But she could not have killed the girls—she has no way of getting to them."

"But she has access to strychnine," Ciel said, "Her pawnshop sells everythin' under the sun, especially black market stuff if ya know how ta ask."

"So we have a way for her to get the poison," Sebastian said, "But what of the access to the victims? I am quite sure that Angela, a pawnshop owner in East End, would not be able to sneak poison into the drink of a famous opera star, much less three daughters of prominent English nobility."

"But tha's why we have an accomplice."

"This is also true. So Angela is now our prime suspect."

Ciel thought hard. Who could be the accomplice? It would have to be someone who got out on the town a fair amount, to know the families and go to the opera house frequently. They would have to be used to wandering about London, specifically the East End. They would need to have a strong dislike of these girls, and possibly of the Scotland Yard. They would need to have the intent to kill. Suddenly, Ciel looked up. Everything made sense.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a possible accomplice?"

Ciel nodded. "I think I have our lady."

* * *

Ciel stood on the sidewalk with Sebastian at his side, looking on as the Scotland Yard locked handcuffs on the accomplice of the London poisonings.

"This is ridiculous! I am innocent!" Madame Red protested.

"Miss Durless, you have been found to be guilty of murdering five people: three young girls, one woman, and one wanted criminal," said Fred Abberline, leading her to the coach to take her to the police station.

"Tha's 'er, I'd know 'er anywhere!" screeched Angela from inside the coach, "Tha's the girl I gave tha poison ta! Those girls strayed from tha path o' God, Angelina 'elped me teach 'em a lesson!"

"Angela! How dare you!" Madame Red shouted back.

"I'm not lettin' ya go when I'm 'eaded fer the chates! Yer comin' with me, murd'ra!"

"Fine! I did!" shouted Madame Red, "I killed them! I slipped poison into their drinks! I stole more poison to kill Irene Diaz! I hated those girls, living such perfect lives when I would never be able to have a daughter of my own!"

"Those're a lot of confessions," Ciel observed.

Madame Red glowered at the boy. "Just look at you, Ciel. I helped you, _saved your life_, and this is how you repay me?! Don't you look so high and mighty there, with your fancy clothes and polished shoes. You're just a street rat under all that, there's _nothing_ there worth saving!"

"That will be quite enough, Miss Durless," Abberline said, leading her away to the coach and locking the door behind her.

Ciel looked on with detached pleasure. He had solved the case; everyone was in his or her rightful place. Everyone in his or her rightful place, but what about him? He looked at his reflection in Madame Red's townhouse window: he was dressed in a tailored green coat with matching shorts, which came to about his knee. A blue bowtie and a matching ribbon on his top hat completed it, along with shiny shoes and a polished ebony cane. A black eye patch covered his blind eye. Sebastian had bought him all this when he was released from the hospital, and he admitted that he liked it. But as Madame Red had said, he was still a street rat under all the trimmings and flair. Could he learn to become accustomed to this life? Sebastian had officially taken him in, and he was hearing plans for hiring tutors to begin his education. He could try to get used to this new life of luxury; however, at the moment, he was still just an undertaker's apprentice.

**YES! The case is solved! Was anyone surprised by who it was? And kotobaka has finished posting her first story. Quite a learning experience! Thank you _so much_ to everyone who's been reading and keeping up, and thanks to everyone who managed to read this whole thing 0_o And I love all my reviewers~!**

**Aw, to hell with it - there's an epilogue next week, I couldn't resist. But this will actually be the end :( April 16, be there!**


	29. Epilogue

**Hi everybody! Here's the epilogue, like I promised. I just couldn't let the story end without an afterthought and, well, it would've been a bit odd if i had left it off that way. You'll see once you read it, I hope! I'm very happy Ciel finally ended up with nice clothes/eyepatch/cane/normal Ciel-ness by the end of the story. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Read on!**

The Undertaker's Apprentice

The London shipyard was one of the busiest places in the world. Traders, sailors, and travelers bustled about everywhere from every corner of the world. People shouted praises of their wares from the sides of the docks and streets. Smells of exotic spices wafted through the crowds, baskets of silks and strange foods floated about in the arms of traders. And above all this business and chaos, hundreds of ships docked at port, looming over the people like divine guardians. Despite the winter cold, London's commerce slowed down for no one.

Amid all the dealings and boardings and disembarkings, there was a small group huddled by a smaller ship, all surrounding two boys who were in turn flanked by a trunk apiece.

"But why do we have to go?!" Ciel protested, "We are perfectly safe staying with you!"

"It is not safe in London for either of you, I have already explained it to you," Sebastian said, "Finnian is still wanted for working in the brothel for Hammond, and you are wanted for not only that, but you are in danger because you were involved with Charles Grey's death."

"But you were excused from that! It was defense!" Ciel shouted. Even after two months of living in Sebastian's mansion and two months of etiquette lessons from Merlyn, he was still inclined to revert to less polite habits once in a while.

Sebastian shook his head. "I was legally exempt, but there are still a fair amount of people under Her Majesty who would very much like to see me dead for what I did to Earl Grey. Or they would like to torture me by killing you or taking you captive."

Grell swept onto the scene in all his fiery glory, grabbing Ciel and Finny in turn in huge hugs. "Ci-ci! Finny! I'm so glad I was able to see you guys off! Undertaker's here, too!" he pointed behind him, where sure enough, the Undertaker was standing there. He waved and grinned. Ciel waved back.

"Oh! Yesterday was your birthday, wasn't it, Ci-ci?" Grell asked, digging around in his pockets.

Ciel nodded. "Yes, my twelfth."

"Only twelve, I can't believe it!" Grell squealed, "That's so exciting! Here's a gift from the Undertaker and I!"

He presented Ciel with a silver ring. A huge square, blue jewel was set in it. Ciel took it with wide eyes. It was beautiful, though the boy was afraid to ask how the two death gods had acquired it. "Thank you," he said, slipping the ring onto his left index finger.

Merlyn and Bard practically fell over themselves trying to hug both boys. "We'll miss you both so much!" Merlyn cried.

"Be sure to write letters," Bard said, clapping Finny on the back.

"We will!" Finny assured them. The group of three wandered towards the ship, talking amongst themselves.

Grell and the Undertaker gave Ciel one last hug, then wished him goodbye. When they were gone, Sebastian took Ciel by the wrist and led him away to the shadow of the gangplank. "Remind me why Finny and I must travel with a circus to India," Ciel grumbled.

"I told you already, you will be able to move about freely with them. No one questions a half blind, half lame boy and a bizarrely strong young man if they are with a circus."

"This is true," Ciel said. Then he paused. "…I still have another question."

Sebastian touched the boy's chin, tilting it up so he could gaze at his lone sapphire of an eye. "And what would that be?"

Ciel raised his visible eyebrow. "Won't you miss me too much?" he teased.

To answer his question, Sebastian kissed him. This time, however, it was different than the one they shared at the ball. This one was sad, but at the same time it was so much more fulfilling than before. Sebastian kissed with an almost feverish earnestness, taking as much as he could in each moment his lips pressed against Ciel's. Ciel allowed him this exploration and let himself become lost in the duke's charms, molding himself to his body so there was no space left between them.

Ciel had him—Sebastian was his. He knew how Sebastian felt about him, and it was quite clear how he felt about the duke. Their lips met, then broke apart, then met again in a series of long kisses. Ciel didn't want to stop kissing him, didn't want to leave him, because that meant traveling thousands of miles away to India. Now that he had this luxury, this pleasure, he never wanted to let go of this life, not ever.

"…Sebastian?" he mumbled, bowing his head and leaning into him, "Will I ever see you again?"

The duke whispered in his ear: "You have my blood, Ciel. No matter where you go, I will be able to find you. But remember," he added when Ciel was about to say something, "This can be a double edged sword. No matter where you are in the world, I will be able to find you. Until you are gone from this world, I will be one step behind you, following your every step and every order."

Ciel grinned deviously up at the demon. "Just what I would expect from you," he whispered back, leaning up again for another long kiss.

The entire group waved from the port as Finny and Ciel boarded the ship. "Goodbye!" they both shouted over the din of the shipyard. They walked the rest of the way up the gangplank and boarded the ship.

An elaborately dressed young man greeted them. He wore checkered patterns on his clothes, and two triangles decorated his cheeks under his eyes. "Hello, Ciel, Finny," he greeted them, "Welcome to the circus! You can call me Joker—we all have nicknames here, and we call each other as such."

Ciel nodded. "Alright. Hello, Joker." Finny waved timidly.

Joker smiled and walked them to their cabin. "You'll be staying here," he said as he opened the door, "lavatory is at the end of the hall, and I'm three doors down from you. Tell me if you need anything."

"Thank you," Ciel said. The two boys dragged their trunks into the small cabin and began to set up their room.

Finny sat down on his bed and sighed. "How 'bout it, Ciel?" he asked, "You think we'll be okay?"

Ciel looked out the porthole at the harbor. It would be a long time before he would see this sight again; he would miss it. The boy smiled. "Yes, we'll be fine, Finny." And he was sure of it. Though as he finished unpacking, and as the ship cast off for India, and even as they drifted out to the blue sea for future adventure and their new life, Ciel could not shake the feeling of being watched. A pair of smoldering crimson eyes, always watching him until the end of time.

**Yes, yes, I know it's not the all-lived-happily-in-the-manor-the-end thing, but it works. Especially when I say that I am planning a sequel! Which I am! There was even a tiny dash of SebxCiel in there... Thank you again, everyone, for reading my first posted story, I really appreciate it ^_^ Feedback is always welcomed. Well, see you all another time!**


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